


Queen Mononoke: Through Fire and Fang

by PakariYacer



Category: Mononoke-hime | Princess Mononoke
Genre: F/M, cuzEboshineedsbackstory, demonpowerising, doesntlikeit, sanlearnstobehuman, whynoKayaoncharacterlist?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-02-03 08:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 58,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12744696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PakariYacer/pseuds/PakariYacer
Summary: No one in Irontown knows who Ashitaka really is. But when a wounded samurai comes from the Capitol with a grave message, his carefully hidden identity falls apart, causing San to question all she thought she knew about him. As they travel with Eboshi to save Ashitaka's oldest friend and possibly the fate of the remaining Forest Gods, they must fight against the inner and outer forces that would tear them apart.





	1. 1

San’s eyes flashed open. Somebody had entered the forest. And the forest did not recognize them. She slowly stood from her cross-legged position on the mossy rock where she had been pondering. Her wolf brother Tsume looked up from his rest, massive head rising from between paws that were each longer than her dagger, long ears tracking potential dangers. They shared a glance, not needing to speak. San tugged her spear out of the ground with a graceful spin and they went to investigate.

            She slipped away into the underbrush, silent save for the rustling of the leaves in the wind and the songs of returning birds. San was glad for the silence. There had been quite a lot of noise recently. She snorted in amusement, drawing Tsume’s glance. That was quite the understatement. The land was alive, the animals were back, and the trees were growing once again. But the scars of the recent conflict were still visible, and San doubted they would fade in her lifetime. She raised her arm, and looked at the faded blotch on the back of her hand. Some scars couldn’t fade.

            Tsume drew up next to her and halted. San followed his lead, listening intently. She might have been a wolf by inheritance, but her senses were unfortunately all too human. His snout raised to sniff the air, and San heard the sighing of the trees. What still disconcerted them, was what they had felt. They were not sure if it was evil or malevolent, just… unfamiliar. The language of the trees was a subtle one, but anyone could learn it.

Tsume turned his large head towards her, stone-gray eyes solemn. “There is a stranger here. Human.”

San nodded and replied quickly. “Armed?”

Tsume’s ears twitched, uncertain. “He is dying.”

She remembered another warrior, bleeding out from a gaping hole in his side, San holding a blade to his throat. She shoved those thoughts away. He had forgiven her with no effort, but she couldn’t get over what had happened between them. Besides, he _still_ hadn’t come to visit her.

“Let’s go, then.” Without further conversation, she took off into the forest, feet making hardly a sound as she whipped through underbrush and vaulted over boulders. Tsume, surprised for hardly a second, joined her, a toothy grin on his long face. He was excited. Kiba, his twin, would be jealous. He was busy patrolling the northern borders for any remnants of the samurai army that had invaded this land, but they all knew that they were long gone.

She would never admit it, but she too was excited, heart pumping with the anticipation of facing a potential enemy. Her fingers tightened and loosened on the wrapped haft of her spear. Finally. Something to do! All her time before the War had been consumed with plans to kill the leader of Irontown, to destroy their iron and drive them away. Now? Well, they were at peace.

And peace, even if it was uneasy, was _quite_ boring.

San slowed, and Tsume followed suit. As they approached a rough trail leading through the forest, San placed her necklaces inside her shirt to muffle their clinking. One was made of fangs, but the other held a blue crystal in the shape of a small dagger. She tugged her cloaking mask over her face, covering her teenage features. Despite her apparent youth, her dark blue eyes were hard and crimson war paint was meticulously arraigned on her cheeks and forehead. The cloak she wore was of white wolf fur. It had belonged to a wolf-sister she had never known, killed by the humans before Moro had found San. Her name had been Dela.

They approached the edge of the road, shadows of the trees and boulders hiding them in the waning light of day. San held up a hand, and Tsume halted and stayed where he was. He would wait until she gave the signal. They could both hear halting footsteps, and the occasional grunt of pain. And the clinking of armor. She placed her spear carefully on the ground, and began to edge around the great stone, steel dagger rising in front of her in reverse grip. She looked down.

A samurai limped down the trail, black armor reflecting the light piercing the canopy. She could not yet see his face, the shadow of the helmet obscured it. One hand clutched his side, blood seeping from between fingers, dripping to fall on the rocks below him. He had taken quite a beating, and he had been wounded for a long time. The lacquered steel armor he wore had once been fine, but was now covered in the rusty stains of old blood, dents and scratches marring its gleaming face.

None of this was new to San. She had seen many wounded in her days. It was what was in his other hand that grabbed her attention with an iron grip. A small animal, black with shocks of white fur swirling through, sat curled comfortably in the crook of the warrior’s elbow. It was a wolf cub.

“C’mon, legs, don’t give up on me now. Not when we’re almost there!” He exclaimed, bright voice laced with an undertone of pain. He stumbled on a jutting rock, and barely caught himself with his free arm, his life flowing out on the stones once again. His wound had recently been reopened. The sharp scent of blood iron caught in San’s nose. She was growing tired of that smell.

“Well, Hitori, what do you say? Should we keep going, or take a break?” He looked down at the wolf in his arms, and the cub yipped up at him. San’s breath caught in her throat, eyes going wide. That was no common wolf. It was like Moro, it was like Kiba and Tsume… Like her.

She heard Tsume growl softly in surprise behind her. The samurai spun, surprisingly quick. His wakizashi flashed out of his scabbard like lightning on a clear night. The blade was clean.

“Who’s there?” She could see his face, now. He was young, but older than she or Ashitaka, early twenties. Her eyes widened behind her mask. His eyes were a bright shade of blue, like a clear morning sky. Beneath the pain that twisted his expression, she could see the laugh lines clearly. He held the cub protectively, away from where his short sword pointed. It whimpered, cuddling closer to him. He had a wound on his forehead as well, covering the left side of his face in dried blood.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Hitori.” He muttered, swaying slowly. “We should get out of here. She _did_ tell us to hurry.” He began to limp down the path, keeping his blade ready, wary. San looked back at Tsume. Her brother returned her gaze, expressionless. She slid the mask to the top of her head, and slowly began to shadow the samurai along the trail.

This _was_ something. A samurai would be occasion enough, only the stupid or desperate took the forest trail. A thought made itself know to San. _He could be comfortable here…_   She shook her head. Foolishness, nobody from the-

_Ashitaka was._ The though made her halt in her tracks. _He_ had been comfortable in this forest. And this man… was carrying a wolf cub in his arms. Down the trail, the man collapsed with a shout that ended with a crash of metal on stone. San approached, knife still held ready. He groaned, head turning. His kabuto had come off his head in the fall, revealing dirty blonde hair. The cub wiggled itself out from under his armored body, completely unharmed. Another sign of its lineage. It ran and tumbled to a stop near the fallen warrior’s head and began to lick the blood from his wound. As San rounded the pair silently, she could see the wan smile on his face as he stroked the small animal softly.

“Now back up, Hitori, I’m gonna try this walking thing again.”

He raised himself shakily to his hands and knees, and in a rush tried to stand. His hand, slippery from blood began to slide on the smooth rock, and San winced as again the earth welcomed him to its hard embrace. He groaned again, and Hitori yelped and scampered over to him. Hitori whimpered pitifully, pawing at his head, wondering why he wouldn’t rise. His breathing came in ragged gasps, and he coughed blood onto the stones.

“No. NO! I cannot fail her now, not when we’re so close! We must reach Irontown.” He sat up stiffly, groaning. The little wolf looked up at him imploringly. He began to unbuckle the armor from his chest.

“If the gods will that I die here, so be it. But it will not happen until I have given up.” He removed his chestplate with a sickening rasping, and dropped it before looking down at his small companion. Hitori, seeing what he was doing, had bit down on the leather strap of his right shoe and began to tug on it.

“Hitori! I still need those!”

San looked back to Tsume. The samurai looked very bad, and San knew that no one could survive such wounds without immediate attention. He had collapsed against the boulder behind him, breathing heavily. He had successfully removed most of his armor, but now she could see the bandages beneath. Those were blade wounds. San felt a twinge in her heart. This man had been wounded by other men, helping something that could not help itself. Just like… Ashitaka.

“He will die before sundown.” Tsume stated quietly, no hint of emotion in his voice. “Those without strength do not deserve to survive.”

“You can see he has strength, Tsume.” She met her brother’s eyes. “If he dies here, we will not do anything. But if he continues…” She fought down an involuntary shiver. “I will go to help him.”

Tsume gazed at her, saying nothing, but San could sense his disapproval. A curious mix of emotions rose in her. Shame at dishonoring her tribe by sympathizing for a human, but another brand of shame at leaving a person to die. She hadn’t used to feel that, she wouldn’t have cared less if all humanity had been destroyed, leaving her to be happy with her mother and brothers. But Moro was dead, and because of a _boy_ her humanity was in constant struggle with her wolf. _Damn_ that Ashitaka!

But another feeling kept her from leaving him to his fate. Curiosity.

“I will not force you to help him. But he has traveled far, so there must be a reason why he has come. Possibly even something to do with that small god he carries.” She stated softly. Tsume looked past her again, to where the warrior was attempting to stand, Hitori yipping anxiously up at him.

“Allrighty, third time’s the charm. Here, hold this.” The samurai pulled out a red ribbon from a side pouch, and dropped it where Hitori caught it in her mouth. It was simple, like a hair ribbon. “For luck. But if I don’t make it… Take it to whom it belongs.” He stood shakily, arms spread for balance. He looked at the surrounding forest, letting his exhaustion show.

“Gods of the forest. I plead your blessing to guide me safely to Irontown. I have a message for the Prince of the East, and I hope that he may be alive and well.” He bowed his head slightly, and after a second, began limping down the path once more. What samurai respected the gods of nature? “C’mon, little pup, we don’t have all day!” Hitori barked happily and followed him, ribbon in mouth, trotting after him. Tsume’s grim eyes rested on her again.

“Go. Help this human. But find out about the little god, if you can. Mother told us of other tribes, whom we have not seen. I for myself would like to know if we are alone, San.” She nodded, a small smile emerging on her face, and her arms wrapped around Tsume’s broad neck. She may be human, but Tsume and Kiba would always be her older brothers.

With one glance at the retreating samurai, she bolted through the forest, neither tree nor rock blocking her inexorable speed. Her excitement curbed the distaste that she felt at the prospect of having to speak to _that_ woman. Only she and Ashitaka could save this man in time, and San didn’t want to waste time seeking out Ashitaka. Who was that prince the samurai had mentioned? It was probably nothing important.


	2. 2

Ashitaka lifted the log into place, grunting in unison with the men around him. His bare chest shone with perspiration, sweat dripping from his forehead to the dusty ground. At the shout from the foreman, they heaved as one. The log fell smoothly into position, marking another frame complete. Ashitaka slumped to the side of the lumber wall, grinning as the other men congratulated each other on a job well done. It felt good to be doing real work again, instead of running and fighting. They had been doing far too much of that lately, in his opinion.

He joined in their happiness, but he could tell they were still wary around him, as if he were a fragile object that might break at any time. He grunted to himself, smile spreading on his face. The Hero of Irontown could calm a Death God’s fury, but couldn’t handle building a house? _At least most of them have stopped calling me sir_ , he thought ruefully.

He laughed as Kohruku slapped him on the back, a wide grin on the slender man’s face. “Five down, eight to go!”

 Ashitaka nodded as another man stated, “We’ve really got it down, now!”

Ganzo yelled from the corner of the new wall, the bodyguard’s roar carrying over the sounds of labor. “More like 200 to go! Take a short break, men, but keep it SHORT! I don’t wanna have to come down there and kick any of y’all’s-“ His voice was drowned out by good-natured jeers, and the men of Irontown moved to the site of the next house, the roofing team coming in behind them to finish the job of the house. Ashitaka collapsed on one of the great support beams alongside Kohroku, sighing in relief, rubbing the knots in his back.

“I think Ganzo’s just sore that he’s foreman now.” Kohroku stated, chewing on a piece of straw that he had found somewhere. “From the top of the ladder, the Lady’s right-hand man, to a glorified construction worker!” Kohroku barked a short laugh, before turning to the man that had plopped on the other side of Ashitaka. “What do you think, Genro?”

“Wait, he no longer guards the Lady?” Asked Genro, the short man’s eyebrows rising in astonishment.

Kohroku shrugged, “It sure seems that way. Now that Mononoke has left her war path, I guess there isn’t as much for Ganzo to defend against.”

Ashitaka smiled to himself as Genro nodded and thought for a second. “Well, seems to me that he’s still ordering people around, and yelling at the slightest opportunity…”

“So his job hasn’t really changed then, has it?” Ashitaka finished for him, and the other men looked at him in surprise before bursting with laughter. After a second, Ashitaka joined them, his quiet chuckle underlying their louder mirth. By the gods, it felt so good talking and joking like a normal person again!

Even back in his homeland, his position as Prince-Heir had separated him somewhat from the other children his age, giving him the appearance of being… distant. Only Kaya had seen him as just another person, one that she had loved. But here, he could finally be himself.

“Hey, boys! Want something to drink!?” As one, their heads swiveled at the source of the shout. Toki advanced towards them, water bucket and ladle in hand, and a smile on her pretty face. Her hair, as always, was wrapped above her head with a white cloth, and her pink kimono was open to reveal a generous amount of bosom. The other men immediately began shouting their thirst for the world to hear, and Ashitaka realized how dry his own mouth was.

“Well, come and get it then!” She gestured with the ladle in an exaggerated motion, and the men leapt to their feet and began to line up in front of her.

“You couldn’t have come to give it to us? We’ve been working all morning, you know!” Genro complained, and looked about to continue when Kohroku jabbed an elbow at his ribs, gesturing to his wife as Toki’s head spun to search the line with an icy gaze. Ashitaka stepped aside, letting all the other men go first, just glad that Toki hadn’t directed that look at him.

As he waited, he looked at the world around him. Before the destruction and subsequent healing of the land by Shishigami, these mountains had been desolate and gray, a result of the intense foresting that Lady Eboshi had initiated in her forging of iron, and Irontown had been a bustling and growing city. But now, Irontown was rebuilding itself from the rubble of that conflict, and the mountains had been made green once again. They were festooned with sprouts and young trees, the world grateful for the coming of spring in more ways than one. Ashitaka still felt guilty for the destruction that had occurred, even though the rational side of him knew that it hadn’t been his fault. It was still hard convincing one’s heart, however.

Ashitaka’s thoughts slowly turned to San, and his carefully controlled emotions were suddenly unsteady. His gaze drifted to the Northern Forests. He hadn’t seen her in the month following the destruction, not for lack of trying. He had visited the Holy Spring where she had nursed him back to health, to the towering rock shelter where he had realized just how much he loved her. That emotional, beautiful, wild girl… But he couldn’t find her.

He turned his gaze back to where he was, to the stink of sweat, surrounded by honest, simple people who laughed and loved and worked. He watched as Toki smacked Kohruko upside the head with her ladle for cutting in line. Humanity.

San was new to being human, still confused about what and who she was. Before, she had been Mononoke, Princess of the Vengeful Spirits. But he had shown her San, the beautiful lost girl that he loved. He was the cause of that change, and he understood every bit of resentment she felt. The scar on his cheek throbbed, and he smiled, touching it. She had given it to him. And while he did not know what he could do to help, he did know that he would do anything for her.

“Oi! Ashitaka!” He shook his head, clearing it as he realized that he stood alone in the center of the courtyard, the other workers watching him curiously, Toki waiting with her hands on her hips.

“Oh!” He scrambled forward, and bowed to Toki in apology, and she giggled as he rose. “My apologies, mistress Toki.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she pointed at him with her ladle, head cocked in amusement. “NOW _THAT_ , my dear boys, is the correct way to treat a lady!” The assembled water girls clustered at the edge of the construction courtyard erupted in giggles as the men looked at each other uncomfortably. Toki lifted her ladle for him to drink from with a smile. “Apology accepted, _Master_ Ashitaka.”

He reddened, and gratefully took the proffered water, welcoming the refreshing lake water. Ashitaka bowed again to Toki and the other water girls and thanked them, causing another spurt of giggles before he strode back to the next site in line, grateful to be away from all those searching eyes. Ever since he had come back to Irontown to help rebuild, all the single women -and disturbingly some of the married- had seemed to undertake a collective quest to see who would catch his heart first. He knew that many women thought him attractive with his graceful warrior’s build and handsome face, but he had never been the center of such attention! But no matter their attempts and scheming, he knew in his heart that there was only one girl he could settle for.

His gaze drifted to the forest again, until he heard Gonzo’s hollering. “All right you great bunch of fools, you’ve taken far too long already, now get back to work!!!” Ashitaka had hardly lifted his first log before Gonzo came to him personally, customary scowl prominent on his face, sweat sheening on his bald head. While he presented a brusque attitude, Ashitaka knew his true nature. He was an honorable man, utterly devoted to Lady Eboshi, and had shown courage in saving the people of Irontown. But that didn’t make him any less unpleasant.

“Ashitaka! The Lady wants to speak to you. Before you ask, I haven’t the slightest what it is, and even if I did-“

“I understand, Captain Gonzo. I will go to her, but you wouldn’t mind taking my place, would you?”

He grunted in surprise, and Ashitaka left his place in the line of groaning men lifting the heavy log. Immediately they erupted in shouts of dismay, forcing Gonzo to take Ashitaka’s place with a growl.

“Thank you, Captain!” The other workers shouted in unison. Ashitaka chuckled as he ran to grab his coat, leaving behind Ganzo’s grumbles. He couldn’t go half-dressed before the Lady, no matter how good of terms they were on.

He jogged through the streets, passing merchants and traders who had come to Irontown only this week. Ashitaka knew that they were a source of stress for Lady Eboshi, who was struggling to find things to trade to them, now that her main forge had been destroyed. He didn’t blame her for the stress, the town that had received its name from iron was no longer producing it.

He finally reached the Lady’s house at the highest corner of the town, and began the short climb up the steps, passing the newly constructed guard towers, complete with rifle-armed soldiers. He reached the top, caught his breath, and bowed to the female guards outside the front door. They bowed to him in return, hiding smiles behind hands, one bearing a naginata and the other a pole-gun.

“Here to see the Lady, sir? She’s on the balcony.” Ashitaka nodded his thanks and entered. The house, while large, was simple and functional, serving as a last line of defense in case of attack.

He closed the door to the balcony gently. She stood along the railing, gazing out over the dark water of the lake surrounding her small kingdom. Lady Eboshi turned to him, red lips curved into a small smile.

“Ashitaka. It is good to see you again.” She was tall, imperious, and very beautiful, with dark hair put up over her head with small blades disguised as pins. Eboshi walked slowly to him, as he bowed courteously to her. She moved with the grace of a noble, though it also served to hide the deadlier grace of a trained warrior. She was also missing an arm, taken by the Wolf goddess in her last moments, but this did nothing to lessen her presence.

“You as well, my lady.” He stated, returning her smile, though inwardly his had a trace of uncertainty to it. What did she want with him? She was a very dangerous woman, and while she favored Ashitaka as the savior of Irontown, he still did not know what her plans concerning him were. He moved to stand next to her at the railing.

“Oh, Ashitaka. Polite as ever, I see. It’s a shame that we do not have more time to spend together, I would like to hear more about your land.” He nodded to her, but inside he was going over the stories he had prepared for people that asked him about his past. His people, the Emishi, had not survived over 500 years of hunting without complete secrecy. Only one person west of the Range, Jigo, knew his identity, and that was more than enough to worry him already.

Eboshi’s smile faded, turning her calculating hazel eyes on him. “But unfortunately, now is not the time. Your friend from the forest visited me today.”

Ashitaka’s eyes widened in surprise, and he took an unconscious step forwards. “San was here!? What did she want?”  

Eboshi’s smile returned. “My, such enthusiasm. Yes, she came to me while I was studying. I’m surprised your wolf girl got so close without being spotted. I almost killed her myself, she gave me such a fright.”

“She’s not _my_ -“ Ashitaka closed his mouth, and tried again, calming. “San is her own woman. What did she want?”

Eboshi turned away from the balcony, her hand gripping the railing. Her expression was fixedly neutral, hard dark eyes gazing over the Ironlake. “There is a wounded samurai heading towards Irontown. He bears a message for a… Prince of the East, or some such.” Ashitaka’s heart froze, and he struggled to keep his expression still. Eboshi studied him before continuing. “Mononoke says he will die soon, if help is not given. I want you and several others to retrieve him.” 

Ashitaka replied without hesitation. “Of course, Lady Eboshi.” He bowed slightly and made to leave, but she stopped him with an upraised hand.

“He is coming from the forest road.” This simple statement made Ashitaka pause, and he caught her undertone, as well as the pointed look she gave him. Ashitaka himself had come to Irontown by the forest road, a route that had been long abandoned because of the ferocity of the gods of the forest. Ashitaka nodded. He understood.

This would be no simple samurai.

………

Ashitaka raced down the narrow trail, closely followed by Ganzo and small group of men he had selected. Ashitaka reached down and patted his friend Yakul. The elk was excited to be out of Irontown and Ashitaka had to hold him back to keep him from outstripping the horses of the men behind him. It didn’t help that Ganzo and his men were traveling slower than they could, unnerved at traveling directly through the forest, a feat that before the destruction had been compared to insanity.

But Ashitaka had done it. This forest was not much different than the mountains he had grown up in, one simply had to respect it and make wise choices, and you had nothing to fear from it. He had first seen San in this forest.

“How much farther!?” Ganzo shouted behind him, one hand on the reins and the other closed on the hilt of his massive nodachi, knuckles white with tension.

“I do not know, keep your eyes open!” They continued riding, the trees on either side of them continuing to rise in height as they left the area destroyed by Shashigami. Soon Yakul snorted in anxiety, sharp sense of smell alerting him to possible danger. And then Ashitaka saw him. A man lay on the rocks ahead, red pooling around him. Ashitaka dismounted, landing smoothly and running beside Yakul.

As he approached the fallen figure, a small animal leapt out from under the man’s arm. Ashitaka slowed, trying to make out what it was in the shadows of the trees. It was a small wolf, barely a pup, but it growled at Ashitaka all the same. _Curious_. Ashitaka smiled slightly, unbuckling his ringblade’s belt and laying it down on the ground. Ganzo and his troops thundered to a stop behind him, calling questions to him. The small wolf was unlike any he had ever seen, black with swirls of white along its back and chest. He knelt several feet away from it.

“Don’t worry. We’re here to help your friend.” He stated soothingly. The growling stopped, hesitant. Wait, had it actually understood him? It approached him slowly, and Ashitaka could feel the other men watching him, dumbfounded. “He’ll die if we don’t bring him to safety soon.” Ashitaka continued, letting the cub sniff his hand. It had a red ribbon in its jaws. The wolf looked up at him with intelligent dark blue eyes, and it slowly backed up to face its fallen master again. _It’s like San’s brothers_ , Ashitaka realized, capable of understanding human speech and even able to actually speak themselves. It was possible this one was too young to speak.

Ashitaka rose and went to the samurai’s side. His armor was almost completely removed, showing the bloodstained bandages and undershirt he wore. His head was bare, short blonde hair streaked through with red as well. These wounds were bad, it may even be too late with how much blood he had lost, but for now he was breathing. The wolf looked on nervously as Ashitaka lifted the man with a grunt. Ashitaka was stronger than most his size, but this man was a born warrior, and built like it. Ganzo ran to assist him, giving the small wolf a wide berth before helping Ashitaka place the man on Yakul’s saddle.

The man awoke with a start, and he began to fall immediately. Gonzo cursed, his hand flying to the hilt of the sword on his back. Ashitaka caught him and lowered him to the ground, soft as he could manage.

The man gasped, every breath an effort, but his bright blue eyes fixed on Ashitaka. He spoke, voice ragged and weak. “Do you know the Prince of the East? I have… something very important to tell him, and I won’t die without delivering it.” Ashitaka’s eyes narrowed. So it was true, this man was searching for him. He supposed he only had two choices. Deny that he was or knew the Prince, and leave the message to Lady Eboshi. Letting him die wasn’t an option.

Or Ashitaka could accept his fate, who he had once been, and take control of the consequences that came with it. Again.

Ashitaka closed his eyes, sent a silent plea to the heavens, and leaned closer. “I am he. What is your message?”

Gonzo looked on, obviously confused. “What is he talking about, Ashitaka? What prince?”

The man looked up at Ashitaka, and his eyes filled with pain. Not just pain of the body, it was a sudden sorrow that grasped him. He was going back into unconsciousness. “There is a girl, in the capitol. She was a foreigner, of the East, and the shogun was torturing her. She sent me to find you. She spoke highly of you…”

Ashitaka’s eyes widened. “Who spoke of me?” But the samurai’s eyes were unfocused now, and his words quieted until Ashitaka had to lean in farther to hear his words.

“She was so confident that I could find you, bring you back, before the interrogations started. I only hope I’m not too late, forgive me…” His voice faded, and his eyes closed. Ashitaka’s knowledge of medicine told him that he had fainted from loss of blood, but his mind was racing, rebelling against the words that he had heard. His eyes darted to the small wolf, and the ribbon it held in its jaws. It was simple, with decorative pieces of bone on either end, thin, like those used to hold up a girl’s hair…

An Emishi girl.

Memories rose, of the day of his departure from his people. A young girl, holding up her most valued possession, a dark crystal in the shape of a dagger. Her eyes pleading to him, voice plaintive.

_“Please keep it with you, brother, to protect you. You_ must _take it with you, please!”_


	3. Mononoke 3

Lady Eboshi entered the room slowly, careful not to disturb the samurai’s rest. Ashitaka sat, slumped with elbows on knees, watching the sleeping man intently. Ganzo had informed her that Ashitaka hadn’t left this warrior’s side since they had returned, caring for him the best he could while Eboshi’s surgeons had been summoned. Eboshi saw the young wolf that he had mentioned, a ball of fur sleeping curled against its master’s arm. A curious thing, she would have to look into it some other time.  But she was after other game at the moment.

Ashitaka noticed her after several seconds, and inclined his head in a tiny bow, and his attention turned back to the man on the cot. That boy could be so intense when he wanted to. What had that man told Ashitaka? Even when he had been cursed, she had never seen him so disheartened.

“The surgeons tell me he will live. What do you think?” She sat on the bench opposite Ashitaka, the warrior between them. He looked up at her, and his carefully guarded expression could not hide the emotions that were in his eyes. Confusion, pain, and frustration were all visible. Eboshi had learned early to read emotions, it had been a basic survival skill in the Capitol, and still served her well.

“He will heal, providing his wounds don’t get infected. He did a fine job of caring for them, but he had exerted himself too much, opening them all again.” He fell silent, and Eboshi could hear that while his head was in his words, his heart was far away. Eboshi took a second to study the unconscious warrior on the cot.

He was tall, taller than most Irontown men, and broad in the shoulders. He looked like a Northerner, with that bright hair and sharp jawline. He was in his late twenties, with dark eyebrows and fine features. His face was peaceful, and Eboshi could identify a pleasant person when she saw one. She was surprised to find herself attracted to him. A smile curled silently. Her, loving a _samurai_? 

Ashitaka’s next words were soft, and she almost missed them. “He had been on the run for at least two weeks. All of his wounds are from blades, earned during the first couple of days.” Eboshi’s brow creased. Ashitaka knew more than he let on. No matter. She would find out soon enough.

“Ganzo tells me you know this man.”

Ashitaka looked back at her again, eyes determined, sitting up straight. “I do not. I will not play at words with you, Lady, it is not something I am good at. When he wakes and tells us his story, I will tell you mine as well, and what exactly I plan to do.”

Eboshi laughed, and then laughed all the more for the confused look he gave her. “Honesty. Rare, yet so refreshing. Even if it does destroy all my careful planning. All right, Prince of the East, I guess I can wait to hear your story.”

Ashitaka looked at her, evaluating. His eyes softened again. “Thank you. I had planned never to tell it.” The sincerity of his tone gave her pause. Eboshi considered Ashitaka. She had never met anyone like this man. He was hardly a boy, really, but his eyes held more pain than was normal for most wizened sages. So thoughtful, so genuine, but so _strong_. When she had first met him, she had thought him a naïve boy, eyes clouded with ridiculous idealism.

But here he stood, freed of the curse that had bound him. The peoples of the forest and of the iron were at peace. He truly had seen beyond their hate with those clear gray eyes, and proved that it had been Eboshi that had not been seeing clearly. But even more, he had shown her just how hardened she had become. _She_ had been the idealistic one, once.

He stood to leave, pain and confusion still in his eyes, and bowed to her. “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do. Please inform me when he wakes up.”

The words came before she could think about them. “What is troubling you, Ashitaka?”

He turned to her, surprised. Then a smile spread, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Many things, Lady. You will find out soon enough. But thank you all the same.” He bowed again and left the room, and she could hear him break into a run once outside the small building. Dutiful as always.

………

Ashitaka sat on the roof. Not just any roof, he sat cross-legged on the peak of Lady’s Eboshi’s mansion. The stars spread out before him, the night sky lifting his eyes against his will, the pinpricks of light giving him peace where few things would. He tried to forget what awaited him below in the meeting room. The samurai had woken up, and the only thing keeping him from questioning the man out of his wits was Lady Eboshi. The stress of recent days had overworked her, and while she rested, the man had woken. She was preparing, only willing to speak to the man at the same time as Ashitaka.

It was a reasonable request. He would honor it. He took a deep breath of the mountain air, only slightly tinged by the smoke of the small forge-fires down below, trying to relax. He had to keep calm, especially when he revealed who he really was. Or had been. It was hard to keep those things straight.

He looked over the mountains surrounding the Ironlake, -or at least what these lowlanders called mountains- and tried not to think of home. The green meadows, the mountainside where he had grown up, the stream that he and Kaya had played in as children…

His fists clenched as he thought of Kaya, helpless and bound, at the mercy of the imperial tormentors. He could not stand by while she suffered. And he would burn down the capitol, if it came to it, to get her back. Why must those he love suffer because of him? He sat up straighter, clearing his mind and tried to concentrate on the beauty around him, the stars above him and their reflection on the lake below. It was a still night, one that could carry peace and anxiety in equal measure.

His lips quirked in a smile. “Hello, San.”

“How did you know?” The wild girl abandoned her stealth stance, complete with sheathed dagger in hand, and sat cross-legged next to him. She looked exactly the same as she had when they had parted barely more than a month ago. Her wild brown hair was tamed only by the leather headband she wore, a small gemstone carefully placed in the center of her forehead. The crystal dagger he had given her hung around her neck as if it belonged there. He would tell her, someday, what it meant.

Without even trying, she was more beautiful than all the girls he had ever seen. Where they had makeup, she had war paint, and where they revealed and fluttered lashes to draw men’s attentions, San drew Ashitaka’s heart with her sincerity and simple beauty. He looked at her with a genuine smile on his face, some of the stress of the last days lifting from his shoulders. She looked back, curiosity on her face, blue eyes warm and slightly… was she nervous?

“I will always know the sound of your footsteps. I’ve always thought it strange that you wear shoes.” He said.

She glanced down at the makeshift wrappings tied to her feet, and shrugged. “I never really thought about it.” They sat in silence for a stretch, and Ashitaka prepared for the question he knew would come. It came.

“Why didn’t you come? You said you would visit me.” San chided, voice soft, yet plaintive all the same.

“I couldn’t find you. About a week ago, I went to the spring. No amount of shouting brought you…” He said, looking at her pointedly.

San reddened slightly, and looked at her feet. “We might have been in the northern forest that day.” A pause, then, “I’m sorry.”

“It is no problem. You’re here now.”  She looked back up, eyes searching, and he smiled again. Strangely, she hid her face from him. Confused but not wanting to say anything wrong, he looked up at the night sky again. She joined him, and they gazed at the stars.

“Spring is coming. My favorite constellations are out this time of year.” Ashitaka stated, studying the sky intently.

San glanced to him, confusion in her eyes. “Constellations?”

“Star patterns. In the spring, we can see the Sower, the Builder, the Great Ox. The Warrior is ascending, you can see his sword arm just above the mountain over there. Oh, and there’s the Wolf. You don’t usually see it until mid-spring, but I guess because we’re so far West of…” He trailed off, realizing he had almost told her where he was from, but she didn’t seem to have noticed. She had leaned forward, trying to see what he saw.

“I can’t see them. Where is the Wolf?”

“If you come closer, I can point it out to you…” He stopped, surprised, as she immediately drew nearer to him, eyes transfixed on the stars. She was… _quite_ close. “Hold out your hand, and point over there, I’ll trace it for you.” She nodded, slim arm rising as she leaned closer to him. His right hand took her own, their heads side by side, her body almost against his.

Ashitaka began to trace out the stars for her, but he looked to her face, so close. San’s eyes were wide in awe, following his finger as he outlined the figures in the stars. She looked so much like a child in that moment, curious and trusting, and when he was finished, she breathed out, “I can see her now. She’s jumping…” She turned to him, wonder gleaming in her eyes, and they let their hands fall. She did not pull away. In her blue eyes, Ashitaka could see the reflections of the million lights.

“When I was a child, I thought I could see shapes in the stars.” She said, voice soft. She had never talked about her past. “Tsume thought I was crazy, and Kiba would only laugh. But mother believed me.” Her eyes met his again, and he became aware of how comfortable she was, there, virtually in his arms. She trusted him that much? He made himself listen to her words. Her eyes flashed downward. “She could not see them. She told me that I could see them, because I was human.” San’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if remembering an old pain. “I thought that was a bad thing. I tried to never look at the stars like that again. But they were always there, mocking me.” She looked at him again, over her shoulder, and he held her gaze.

She looked down, suddenly. “It doesn’t feel as bad anymore. With you.” He nodded, smiling as his eyes went to the heavens above yet again. It spread out before them, an expanse of shattered light arranged in only a way they could see.

“They’re so beautiful.” She said, voice filled with the wonder of a remembered thing. Before he could think about it, his hand raised to touch her cheek, fingers brushing against the red paint there. She turned to him, expression suddenly guarded. But she didn’t pull away.

He held her gaze. “You outshine them all.”

Her eyes widened, and he let his hand lower. She stared at him for a long second, red spreading behind the markings on her cheeks. Frantically, she hid her face, and he leaned respectfully back, again putting a small distance in between them.

Finally, she looked up, expression controlled. “Thank you, Ashitaka.” Her voice was unruffled, but not cold. He smiled in return, and her face twitched as he looked back up at the stars, silently thanking them for their relative beauty. After a second of furiously controlling her expression, San gave up with a sign and looked up with him.

“San, I have something I want you to know.” Ashitaka stated quietly. He didn’t need to ask why she was here, she had obviously come to see the samurai and hear his story. She looked to him warily, preparing herself for another compliment. He met her eyes, expression determined. “You are the only one, San. The only one I would trust my identity with.” She held his gaze, serious and questioning.

“Tonight, I will be forced to reveal my past to people I do not trust. I will tell you some now before-“ He was interrupted by people calling in the building below them, calling for him. He looked towards the source of the sounds, and when he glanced back, San was already on the move, barely a fleeting shadow across the roof. He did not try to stop her. San would do what she would do. She would hear his story either way. He stood, stretching his legs, then went to meet this samurai.


	4. Mononoke 4

Chen was nervous. And hurting something awful, but that was a moot point. He had dealt with pain before, and he probably would again, so that was no big deal. He sat before very imposing people, and while he had done that plenty of times, those other times he had known who they were. He decided to give them nicknames.

 There was the Lady, so different and yet so similar to the royalty in the capitol, imperious and beautiful, and not at all soft. There was the Prince, a young man barely out of his teens, whose steel-colored eyes shone with pain and unbreakable resolve. And then there was the Forest God who took the form of a girl, ferocity buried just beneath the surface, thinking herself hidden in the rafters above them. None of the others had noticed her.

Chen watched the Prince from under lowered brows. He looked very, very much like the Emishi girl, enough that they could be siblings. He closed his eyes as the sounds of her screams rebounded in his memory. He felt like a coward, leaving her there. But she had been right, he couldn’t have won. He had barely gotten away with his life as it was.

But he would return, with this Prince, and they would set her free. His message had obviously affected the young man. He looked peaceful enough on the outside, but Chen had spent enough time around dangerous men that he could see the tension in his posture, the need to _move,_ to _act_ plain in his eyes.

The Lady’s compatriots entered. A pretty woman in a kimono decorated with triangular patterns, and a large unpleasant-looking man with a nodachi on his back and a naginata in his hand. The woman held Hitori in one arm, and a strange contraption in the other. The small wolf nestled there, looking to him anxiously, but she wasn’t alarmed or scared. So those were good people, at least. The woman sat next to the Lady, levelling the device in his general direction. So that was one of these infamous guns he was hearing about. Hitori wiggled out of her arms and ran to him, yipping happily.

He shifted, and gathered the pup in his arms, ignoring the pain surging through his arms and side, laughing as he lifted Hitori to meet her eyes. She licked his face enthusiastically before asking how he was. He didn’t know how she did that, talking to him without any noises, but he was getting used to it now. He sighed, and winked at her, ignoring the confused looks from the Lady’s companions. The Lady’s surgeons had done quite a number on him, but he wasn’t dead, so they must be good. That was how you could tell a good surgeon from a bad one in his experience, he told her.

“Thank you for returning her safely, Hitori means a lot to me.” He stated gratefully as he set the wolf down, and she immediately jumped into his lap and curled there. “So, where to start?” Chen’s words drew the Prince’s piercing gaze, and the Lady gave a tight-lipped smile, red lipstick shining in the torchlight. The Forest God watched.

She spoke, accent refined and gracious. “I believe it is generally polite to start with names. If you will tell us yours first, dear samurai, that would be greatly to our benefit.” The Prince nodded in agreement, those eyes never leaving Chen. He would be a deadly opponent.

“I am Chen Adrei, Captain in the Third Legion of the Empire. Well, formally.” He shrugged, smile fading. “You can call me Chen, though. I’m not a captain any longer. And this is Hitori.” The Lady nodded, a slight smile touching her lips, hard eyes searching him.

“Very well, Chen. I am Lady Eboshi, of Irontown.” Oh yes, Chen had heard of her. The mysterious woman who had risen from the clan wars of the west, to found this town from the stones and the iron under them. It was said nobody knew her true name, and that she was a cruel tyrant that overturned the natural ways of things.

He inclined his head to her, the closest thing he had to a bow. He had also only heard good things about her from the people here, so she deserved his respect. She was also quite pretty, with those delicate eyebrows and full lips… And her missing arm was dang cute too. She’d been in a rough fight, but she’d gotten out alive. Better than most ladies could do, so why was she trying to hide it?

The Prince made to speak, and Chen paid attention. He needed to hear the words he would say. Chen knew that his message had hurt this man, and he needed to know what he could do to help him.

………

“I am Ashitaka.” Eboshi’s eyes snapped to him in a heartbeat, and he took a deliberate second to drink the tea in front of him. His heart was pounding, but the time was not yet. San wasn’t here. “I want to hear more from Master Chen, before I tell more about myself.” Chen looked to him, surprise in his eyes, and Eboshi continued to study him before nodding slowly.

“Well, now that we are all introduced…” Her words were interrupted as San dropped from the rafters, landing in a crouch.

She rose slowly, seemingly ignoring both the shouts of alarm from Ituse and Ganzo, and the gun raised in her direction. She turned and slowly stared down the barrel, eyes hard, daring Ituse to pull the lever. Candlelight danced across her features, the curves and angles of her face picked out in flickering detail. She radiated controlled fury, a wild power that could never be tamed, much less understood. Her mask was up, but it had been replaced by another, somehow more fearsome. Her hands may have been empty, but she was armed with all the ferocity of her tribe.

This was not San, the beautiful, lost girl that Ashitaka had held on the roof.

This was Princess Mononoke, who dealt destruction and justice as she saw fit.

Eboshi met her stare with calm -if equally hard- eyes, but gestured for Ituse to lower the gun. She did so reluctantly, narrowed eyes seeking to pin San to the wall. One of San’s brothers had killed her husband.

“Princess. So wonderful of you to join us.”

At Eboshi’s words, San’s gaze did not alter in the slightest, but Ashitaka knew. It had taken much courage for San to come, here in the presence of her former enemies. She turned to Chen, and he looked up at her with a mildly surprised expression. Hitori was looking up at San with wide eyes, sniffing the air furiously as if trying to decipher the wolf that stood on two legs. San’s eyes softened at the sight of the small cub.

Chen nodded his head in a bow. “What do you wish of me, forest god?” She reached and pulled a blade from the folds of her shirt, holding it out to Chen. Chen took it with a wince, and held it reverently. Ashitaka craned his neck to see what it was. It was a simple wakizashi, clean and well maintained, with black bands wrapping its hilt and a stylized rectangular tsuba. “Thank you for returning my blade. I am indebted to you.” His voice was  calm, respectful.

San nodded in return. Her voice was soft, but tense. “I am not a god. To these-“ she jerked her head at Eboshi and her companions dismissively. “I am Mononoke. But you showed the forest respect. You cared for a sister wolf. You may call me San.”

Recognition flashed on Chen’s face. “You were the one following me, in the forest.” San nodded, and stepped from the center of the room, out of the directed light of the candles along the walls and floor. She sat cross-legged next to Ashitaka. He gave her a small smile, which she did not return, instead leaning forward intently with her elbows on her knees, staring at Chen. The samurai continued. “Thank you for sending help for me. I wouldn’t have made it otherwise.” She remained silent.

Catching the hint, Chen nodded to her respectfully before looking at all of them in turn, making sure they were all paying attention.

“I guess it’s time for me to talk.” He said, shifting uneasily into a more comfortable position. “Very well. Last month I returned to the Capitol from a successful campaign. Apparently, I had done a truly good job of it, because I was summoned before Shogun Nikurashi and the Grand Vizier, representing the Emperor.” Ashitaka barely caught Eboshi’s eyes narrow slightly at the Shogun’s name. Chen paused to drink from the cup in front of him. “They told me that I had potential, and offered me a position as a high Captain. Nikurashi told me he had found a way to finally unite this land, to put the warlords in their place and end the rebels. He told me I only had to promise never to reveal what he would show me. Sounded good to me, so I went along with it. Anything to get rid of those slave-driving tyrants.” He smiled suddenly and looked to Eboshi. “I believe your name was mentioned specifically, my Lady.” She nodded her head graciously, as if in response to a compliment.

“Anyway, I was taken to a secret place underneath the palace. That was where I met Hitori.” He stroked the wolf’s head, and it looked up at him with love in its gaze. “An entire army had been sent to the Northern mountains to try to conquer the Forest Gods there. They had returned with barely a tenth of their number, defeated. But they were not empty-handed. They had captured a demon.”

San and Ashitaka immediately looked to each other, while Eboshi’s gaze moved calmly to Ashitaka. Chen continued. “It was imprisoned in a great metal box, and there was nobody that dared approach it. Apparently it had destroyed an entire division before being taken down.” He looked down grimly at Hitori, who had driven her head into a gap in Chen’s kimono. “It had been Hitori’s father.” San gasped aloud, rising to her knees. “The shogun told me that they would find a way to take the demon’s power, to use it in war.”

Ashitaka raised his hand, the scar on his palm facing Chen. “The power of a demon will destroy anyone who tries to use it.” He stated, no room in his tone for argument, and San nodded agreement, giving a barely visible shudder.

Chen nodded, curiosity repressed. “I never said I wanted it, my Lord. Anyway, I saw little Hitori in a cage. Didn’t really like that, but what was I going to do? Speak against the Shogun? Then, she was just a dumb animal.” Hitori’s head popped out of his shirt and she glared up at him. Chen laughed, an infectious sound. “I wasn’t talking about now!”

Ituse laughed with him, and Eboshi gave a slight smile. San looked curiously at the small wolf. Ashitaka still watched the floor, waiting for what would come next.

“The Shogun thought that the greater of two matters.” Chen’s tone sobered considerably, drawing all’s attention back to him in an instant. “Almost as a side note, the Shogun revealed that he had discovered the key to finally destroying the rebel Emishi.” Ashitaka sucked in a breath, disguising it with a cough. Chen looked at him before continuing. “I had thought them long dead and gone, part of history. The Shogun corrected me. I was given the impression that he had discovered some physical proof or an informant or some such.” He paused, taking a deep breath. His hands were clenched into fists. He closed his eyes, pleasant countenance slipping to reveal the pain underneath. “How I wish I was wrong.” He whispered.

“Instead I found a young girl, chained to the wall.” Ashitaka’s hands clenched on the fabric of his pants, and San looked to him in surprise. Chen was breathing hard now, voice dangerously soft.

“Now you see, I’m a samurai. I’ve seen many terrible things, and done some terrible things. But even then, I acted with what I thought was honor.” He looked down furiously, and shook his head. “She had been beaten within an inch of her life. I wasn’t sure if she was dead or alive, she looked so bad.” Eboshi’s face had twisted slightly, almost imperceptibly, but a winter storm could not approach the ice in her countenance.

“And then she looked up at me. Her eyes…” Chen shuddered, grimacing in pain. He met Ashitaka’s gaze. Ashitaka looked back, mouth a hard line, breathing with careful deliberation. “At first, I was confused. I had thought the Shogun and the Vizier honorable men. I did not try to help her immediately. I dishonored myself.” He looked down, and held his head in his hands, taking a long shuddering breath. He coughed violently, red flecks appearing on his white bandages. He held up a hand, forestalling Ituse’s concerned remark.

“I will finish.” He wiped blood from his mouth with his bandaged sleeve. “They told me that she was not only an Emishi, but royalty among them. They would use her to discover the location of her people. I was then allowed to return to my barracks.” A warm spring breeze blew across them, the slight whisper of its passing the only sound, the flames of the torches and candles flickering at its passage.

“I could not sleep. I returned that night, bypassing the guards by telling them I had been placed in charge of her interrogation. I released her hands, and watched her pain as she awoke. She thought… she thought I was her torturer. I told her who I was. Her name was Kaya. She was so like my own sister.” His voice broke, and Ashitaka looked up to see a tear fall from Chen’s cheek. The samurai scrubbed it away, but his narrowed eyes were full, and they continued to fall. His voice remained strong, however. “She opened up to me, fully and completely, as I had been the _only one_ to treat her as another human being. Despite her pain, there was such strength in her. I told her I would help her escape, to carry her back to her people.” He let out a raw bark of a laugh. “I was not thinking clearly. But she was. Kaya sent me on a quest.” He looked up and met Ashitaka’s eyes, and all in the room followed his gaze.

Ashitaka did not speak, merely held up the red ribbon for all to see. San gazed at it with wide eyes, looking perplexed. Chen bowed his head reverently and continued. “There was a man named Ashitaka. She loved him, and was seeking him out. She has sent me, in her stead, to find him and bring him back to her. Now that I am here, she gave me a sign by which I might know him from a duplicate or a trap. She said you knew what it is,” Chen stated, solemn.

Ashitaka felt a tear sliding down his own cheek, but he refused to wipe it away. He turned to San, and held out his hand, gesturing to her neck. Her eyes widened, and he pointed to the crystal dagger. She held it up and stared into it, obviously confused, but she removed it.

He took it with a bowed head and stood, head held high, cheeks wet but eyes determined. He held the necklace up where the light of the candles danced in its depths. “I am Ashitaka, last Prince of the Emishi. I will never forget Kaya, even until the sun itself falls.”

Silence covered them once again. Chen ushered Hitori off his lap, and stood with Ashitaka. Not a wince crossed Chen’s face, hard and solemn. He bowed to Ashitaka, movement slow and hesitant. “My Lord.”

Ashitaka handed the dagger back to San, not looking to her. She took it carefully, eyes darting from the dagger to Ashitaka. “Who is this Kaya?” She asked, voice carefully controlled.

“San, in time. I will first tell you my history. After I was infected with the demon’s power, I was forced to leave my people, the Emishi, for the crime of killing a spirit.” He sat once again, pondering his words carefully. Chen moved to sit, and Ituse rose to help him to the ground again. “The traditions of our people are… strict. I had to leave immediately, cutting off my hair and all relationships. I departed from them, but…” A small, pained smile crept on his lips. “Tradition would not stop Kaya. She gave me that dagger, to remember her by. She was the Daughter-Heir of our people, and we grew up together.” He looked down, deep in thought.

“We were very close, but I never thought she would try to follow me to the west.” San’s eyes were piercing him, trying to dig other secrets out. He _had_ told all… Well, he hadn’t mentioned the symbolism of the dagger, and San didn’t need to know that he and Kaya had been betrothed since the girl had been born.

San didn’t need to know, did she?


	5. Chapter Five

San narrowed her eyes as Ashitaka looked away from her. He wasn’t telling her everything. She could see the deep pain in his eyes, and she vowed to find out what it was about this Kaya that pained him so.

            “Captain Ganzo, Captain Ituse, you are both in the presence of royalty. What did I teach you?” Eboshi stated, calm but firm. They looked to her in surprise, then at Ashitaka, uncertain, before kneeling and bowing low. San snorted. Humans. Always finding something to bow to.

            To his credit, Ashitaka looked genuinely uncomfortable at the attention, letting his dark hair fall over his eyes. His humility was strange… but amazing. She had never seen it in a human before. Then again, she didn’t really know that many humans.

“Now please, master Chen, finish your story.” Eboshi’s words drew the attention of the others, but San ignored her. While Chen told of his journeys, of fighting, hiding, and running, San had her own thoughts to ponder.

She let the words out once Chen had finished. “Ashitaka, what does this mean? What will you do?”

            He looked to her, and gave a tired smile. Her heart fluttered involuntarily, but she shoved the distraction down. “I will go to the capitol.” He stated simply, the smile fading. “They will not stop until they get what they want. I will not leave Kaya to their cruelties.” Her eyes widened, shock flooding her. Had he just said…? All of a sudden, he was ready to up and leave to go save some girl!? How _dare he_ -

            “Will you come with me, San?” Her brain froze mid-thought. She caught herself before utter shock could register on her face. He tilted his head. “If you don’t want to, I understand,” he continued. “It’s a big thing to ask.” San clamped her mouth shut before she said something that she didn’t want to him to hear, and stared sullenly at the floor. But her mind was racing for something, _anything_ to say.

            He looked at her for a moment before realizing that she would not answer. “I welcome any who would follow me. But I will go alone, if I must.”

            San stopped listening again as the samurai protested his loyalty to _Prince_ Ashitaka. Why did Ashitaka want her to come with him? She held up the dagger and stared into its depths. He had gotten it from that girl, Kaya, so he could remember her. But Ashitaka had given it to _her,_ San! What did it _mean_? Didn’t he trust her? Her mind snapped back to the present at the hearing of her least favorite person’s voice.

            “I will accompany you as well.”  Eboshi stated. “I have business in the capitol as it is. Trade in this area has become quite… difficult.” San’s eyes shot to the woman. She didn’t trust this woman to tie a knot without stabbing someone in the back, much less accompany her only friend on a far journey. Her mouth tightened, but her gaze remained locked on the wooden floor.

            Ashitaka stood. “Thank you both, I am grateful.”

            “I am anxious to see what we find in the capitol.” Eboshi stated.

            San’s fist clenched around the crystal dagger in her hand, until she felt it cut her. She stood, and bolted from the room. She heard Ashitaka call out for her, but she didn’t stop.

………

            Eboshi watched as Ashitaka ran from the room, following Mononoke without a second’s hesitation. She chuckled softly. It would be interesting to see the interaction between the peaceful Prince and the bloodthirsty Princess. Now that there was a third player in that relationship, this Kaya, how long before blood was spilled?

            “Thank you for your information, samurai. It has proven most… dynamic.” She said coolly, facing the injured man. His short sword lay on the ground beside him, and the wolf had returned to his lap after watching Mononoke’s rapid departure.

            Chen turned to her, confusion written on his face. “You’re welcome, I suppose. If you don’t mind my asking, Lady, is there something I need to know about the two of them?”

            A smile spread on her lips. “Oh, it is simply young confused love, between two… _determined_ individuals.”

            Chen nodded. “Well, he didn’t go wrong in his choice. What is that girl, if not a forest god?”

            Eboshi met his eyes. “The daughter of the vengeful spirits of the forest, a lost thing. Her name is San, but she is better known in this city as the Princess Mononoke.”

            “Her wolves killed my husband.” Ituse supplied, face darkening, and Ganzo nodded grimly.

            “We had been at war for three years, and she had tried to kill me on multiple occasions.” Chen’s eyes darted to where her cloak hid her missing arm. She laughed. “No, this is not from her. But Prince Ashitaka has put us at peace, it seems. Mononoke helped him stop a Death God’s rampage, saving us all. And now it seems as though he has fallen in love with her.”

            Chen nodded slowly, taking it all in. He looked to her, eyes determined. “My Lady, why are you choosing to come with the Prince?”

            Realizing that he desired to speak further with her, Eboshi sat gracefully. “Why do you ask, master Chen?” He did not reply, but merely gazed at her with that resolve. Interesting. He knew not to answer her redirection. “It is simple. I did not lie, I do have business in the capitol, and there are some… important people that I need to see again.”

            Chen gazed at her a second longer. On the outside, he seemed a cheerful fellow. But the longer Eboshi watched him, the more she realized that it was a front, one that he was allowing her to see through. This man was dangerous, and in more ways than being able to swing a katana and wakizashi at the same time. “My lady, may I ask a service of you?”

            She nodded, gesturing for him to continue. He coughed, heaving breaths, but he stood again, shooing the animal off of him. The small wolf yipped in annoyance at him, but he gestured, quieting it. “My lady, I am now a ronin. My former masters have dishonored themselves, and I have betrayed them.” He limped over to where Eboshi sat, and she sensed Ganzo stiffening beside her, ready for anything. She raised a hand to quiet him, and they watched as Chen knelt shakily before her, holding his wakizashi up, bloodied hilt towards her. “Prince Ashitaka has honorably refused my offer of service as a samurai, and I will stand beside him until the end of his quest. But I ask you now, lady, will you accept my blade and my honor as your own?”

            He bowed low before her, and she considered his offer, mildly surprised. Eboshi required none of her subjects to be her servants in war, they respected and loved her, and in return, she expected them to follow her in whatever she put her mind to. But a samurai of her own… that would be interesting. They were professional warriors, and while none could survive against the weapons she held, Chen seemed a true samurai, not the rabble that the warlords conjured up around them as walls of meat.

            “I will consider your offer, master Chen. We shall evaluate your skill, once you recover, and who knows? I may be needing any blade available in the coming times. For now, however, you are excused.”

            Eboshi also didn’t want to admit to herself that it would be quite nice to have a male face around that was prettier than poor Ganzo’s.

………

            Ashitaka stumbled to a halt on the road outside Irontown and rested, hands on knees, heaving breaths. He had lost her. She had been too fast for him. He looked around at the dark forest, pale moonlight dimly illuminating everything in a gray glow. He sank to the ground, cross-legged, regaining breath. What had he said? Why had she left? He sighed and looked up.

            “San, I want to talk to you! Will you please listen?” He said to the forest, but only whispering branches and the sound of insects returned to him. He didn’t know what San would do, he realized. He waited, relaxing as the night wind flowed around him, closing his eyes. If she heard him…

            “Well then, talk.” Her voice came, hard and cold.

            He opened his eyes, but she was nowhere to be seen. He moved his hair out of his eyes, trying to think of what to say. Then all of a sudden, it clicked. Her questions of Kaya, the icy silence after his answer… “San, you must know that Kaya is only fourteen years old. She will always have a place in my heart, but it was never… the place as where _you_ are.”

            “As where _I_ am? What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Her voice called, louder.

            For the first time in a very long while, Ashitaka felt desperation rising in him. How was he supposed to talk to her if she kept picking up on things he hadn’t meant to say! “San, I love her, but not… you are…” What _was_ he supposed to say!? He shook his head in frustration, running a hand through his hair. Silence followed.

            “What about the dagger?” Her voice came, so soft he could barely catch it. He sighed and stood, looking out into the forest. He _couldn’t_ explain it to her now. He wasn’t ready. That was why he wanted her to come with him, so he could explain!

            “The dagger… was her gift to me, yes, but it is also my gift to you! San, I thought I would _never_ see you again when you went to battle.” His hand rose to his chest, where another wound healed. Made _by_ that dagger. A shape darted in the corner of his vision, and he spun to see San standing on the road behind him. The light from the stars did not reach her face.

            “I will come,” Ashitaka’s heart leapt, but he stifled it quickly, knowing more was coming. “But for Hitori, for her family, for _my_ _kind_ , Ashitaka, do you understand?”

            He nodded slowly, gravely. “I understand, San.” At least she was coming… The silence between them was only broken by the rustling wind through the grass, and the distant sounds of a city going to rest. All of a sudden, she seemed uncertain, looking away from Ashitaka.

            “I know you would have told me, Ashitaka. And I’m… I’m _grateful_ for that.” He took a step closer to her, and she didn’t retreat. He began to walk to her. “But you haven’t told me everything.”

            “Please, San, you know I would _never_ -“

            “But it doesn’t matter.” She cut in, eyes flashing. “Because I know you _will_.” The last word was a knife, carefully placed, stopping him in his tracks. San’s eyes lost their hardness for a moment, and he saw the vulnerable, beautiful girl that had placed her trust in him. Guilt filled his heart. He lowered his hands, and bowed to her.

            “Yes, San.” When he raised his head, she was gone, leaving him alone with the wind and stars.


	6. Mononoke 6

 

            Chen limped onto the practice field, looking about curiously, Hitori trotting warily beside him, still nervous being around so much humanity. The rough wooden buildings were new, all made from scrap wood that had fallen in the recent destruction. He ground his foot into the rough floor, bare rock covered by a few scant inches of sand. This was a hard place.

            It reminded him of home.

            _Why are there so many humans in the log town?_ Hitori asked, dark head gazing up at him.

            He looked down at her in amusement. Her communication was getting better, even in the week he had been recovering. Soon she would be speaking, based on what Ashitaka had told him. He thought briefly. _If the world is dangerous, then people stick together._

Her ears perked in curiosity. _Oh, like_ _wolves! But… why do they hurt each other then?_

Chen’s smile turned wry. _When the world stops being dangerous, humans get comfortable. And comfort makes humans bored._

            Hitori’s eyes widened in comprehension. _Oh. Bored is bad._ Chen nodded, and set out towards a small stall in the corner of the practice yard. He was still bedecked in bandages, but he was strong enough to walk, so that meant he was strong enough to train. The women of Irontown had washed and mended his robes, for which he was grateful, the black layered garments being one of the few reminders of his father. He fingered the hilt hanging from his belt absently. His wakizashi was another.

            But without a katana, he wasn’t truly a samurai. And that was why he was here.

            “Hello, sir!” Called the stall keeper, his boredom changing rapidly at the sight of a fighting man. It was still early, the dew dripping lazily from slate roofs where the sun still had yet to shine, and there was hardly anyone else about. “What can I do for you this fine morning?”

            “Mornin’! Well, that’s something I’m trying to figure out, myself. You the quartermaster around here?”

            The thin young man laughed and stretched amiably. “No, sir, but he’s a good friend of mine!” He caught sight of Hitori, and jumped back a little before chuckling at himself. “I’m Riko, his apprentice, and you’re master Adrei, right?”

            Chen gave a small bow at hearing his father’s name. “That’s right, son. I seem to have lost a katana, and am in need of a weapon, your finest.”

            Riko gave a deep sigh, “I’ll try my best, master samurai. Right this way…” He led Chen behind the stall towards the racks of weapons that lined the wall of the unfinished practice yard. Chen eyed the line of katanas, scrutinizing each. They were of various makes, some old, most new. He recognized the craftsmanship of the steelworkers of Irontown, rough in form but effective in purpose. He drew one from the wall and swung it experimentally, first with one and then two hands.

            It was heavy, and relatively well-balanced, but had quite a heft to it. The crafters were obviously new to steel working, though he could see that a master’s touch had been applied to the finished product. He handed it back to Riko with a shaken head. “Too heavy. Just the thing for chopping wood or heads, but not for specialty work.” The thin man took it in stride, apologizing and quickly handing him a new blade.

            This one was lighter, but the balance was leaning towards the tip of the blade. The first blow could be devastating, but it would be hard to attack on the backlash of a weapon like this. He shook his head again, handing it back hilt-first to the quartermaster’s apprentice.

            “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not sure what level of quality we can offer a master like yourself.”

            “I understand. How about that older-looking one on the end there?”

            Riko went to fetch it, and Hitori spoke up. _Why does brother look at so many stick-fangs?_ She was still working on how to say human-made ideas and words, but Chen could understand most of her interesting wordplays now.

            _Well, I am fighter, a protector, and I need a new sword._

_But there are so many. Just take one._

He sighed. How do you explain fighting style to a wolf? _What if you bit something so hard that it cracked your tooth and made it fall out? Now pretend that you could choose a new tooth to replace it._ Hitori cocked her head and sat, looking up at him. _Would you want a tooth that was too big?_

Hitori pondered that for a moment. _No._

_Too long?_

_No._

_What about a cat’s tooth?_

            The small wolf made a face like something foul-smelling had been put under her nose, making Chen laugh and Riko frown in confusion, holding the latest choice uneasily. _I would rather eat a-_ She jumped to all four feet suddenly and ran to hide behind Chen’s legs, growling in surprise. Chen took the blade from Riko, alert and ready for anything. He didn’t think the Emperor’s assassins could track him all the way out here, but he refused to be taken by surprise.

            _What is it, little one?_

_Wolf-killer._

            Lady Eboshi rounded the corner of the nearest building, with only Ituse following her. Chen relaxed his grip on the blade, but not his mental attention. She was beautiful. Like the edge of a blade. She was dressed in strange garments that much resembled a stylized version of a working man’s outfit, with long trousers tied at her waist, a simple gray kimono hidden under it. A short cape hung at her side, hiding her missing limb. In her hand was a bared katana.

            Riko bowed quickly with a shouted, “Mornin’, Lady Eboshi!”

            Chen bowed as low as he could, his healing wounds twinging. _Calm, little one. She means no harm to you. “_ Good morning, my lady. What brings you here?”

            Her reply came at a controlled shout. “The same reason as you. I seek a blade.” Chen refrained from telling her she held one, and concentrated on her determined gait. She was a warrior, he knew that much, Ashitaka had made that abundantly clear when describing his interactions with her. Eboshi had already closed the majority of the gap between them, and why was there a sword in her hand-

            He jumped back in surprise, barely managing to get the old sword up in time to parry her piercing blow to his chest. The next moment, he parried away two quick slashes, her light katana cutting the air with its speed. Hitori barked in anger, and Riko exclaimed in surprise. Chen spun, backing away from the exchange, katana held in both hands before him, evaluating. Her blade lowered, but he recognized it a neutral combat position favored by the _kazekata_. _She’s always fought with one hand, then._

 _Hitori! Do not attack, she is merely testing me!_ The wolf obeyed, slinking towards the edge of the practice ground, ears flat against her head with teeth bared. She was too angry to reply.

            There was a hard light in the Lady’s eyes, cold and calculating. _So she is testing me,_ Chen thought to himself. _At least she gave me a week._ Before she could attack again, Chen changed his own neutral position smoothly. One of her dark eyebrows rose, and a smile grew. She knew his stances. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or worried.

            She charged. The Lady swung an overhand cut that Chen let glance off the flat of his blade, and he struck without hesitation at her exposed side. She expertly flipped her blade into a reverse grip and parried his strike with a slash, almost causing him to lose his balance. He recovered smoothly despite his side aching in protest, and regained his position as she charged at him again, not letting him rest.

            He parried, again and again as she struck with unrelenting, controlled power. Her strikes were not hard enough to jar his battle-hardened muscles, but they would definitely be enough to seriously wound or kill any unarmored combatant. He let himself fall into defensive, watching her form and style as she fought. He could see now that she was unbalanced by the loss of her arm, but had trained sufficiently to cover the worst of it. She danced as she fought, striking like a viper when a weakness seemed to present itself, with grace that he had honestly never seen before. Fighting women were not all that common.

            “Milady, you would attack an injured man?” He stated casually, striking at her leg with a one-handed blow, which she easily avoided, following up with a diagonal cut.

            “You would fight a crippled woman?” She replied easily, breath still coming smoothly.

            Chen caught the blow, but instead of batting it away, locked it with his own blade. He advanced towards her, and she had no choice but to let him approach or lose her grip. She braced herself against his advance, and again he was surprised at her strength. But he was a half a head taller than her, and weighed much more. They stood there, blades locked, until she gritted her teeth at the effort of holding him back with one arm. They were almost eye-to-eye.

            Chen beamed at her. “Milady, you are _anything_ but a cripple.”

            Her lips curved in a fierce smile, and suddenly bent backwards. Chen was sent reeling forwards as she smoothly transferred the power of his weight to the sandy ground. She twisted and her blade followed him down. He landed on one hand, shoving himself to the side as her blade was driven into the sand where he would have been. He rolled, katana held ready as they both regained footing and balance.

            “Why would you say that, Master Chen?” She queried, voice unruffled. But she was sweating now, Chen noted with a grin. His own breath was starting to come in ragged bursts, his wounds forbidding him from breathing as deeply as he wanted.

            “Being crippled… huh… is a state of mind. You do not let yourself be incapacitated by your loss. Therefore…” He suddenly lunged, stabbing forward. The blade caught the edge of her shirt as she shifted out of the way of the blow, cutting it, exposing a thin strip of skin above her waistline. Whatever strange balance this old sword had, it was razor-sharp. “Therefore, you are just as strong as I, milady!” While she had dodged the blade, she could not dodge the spinning kick that send spasms of pain down his back and sides.

            But his kick connected, his sandaled foot taking her in the empty shoulder, throwing her to the ground with a surprised cry. A flash of guilt registered as he recognized pain in her voice as well, but he quickly discounted it. He had seen her eyes. She had been through far more pain than he could ever give her.

            Instantly, his blade was held at her throat. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, heaving breaths as she tried to regain the wind he had knocked from her. Her sword lay inches from her outstretched hand.

            “Do you yield?” He stated in the ancient tradition. She smiled. When had her hair been let down? It was attractive-

            Her foot hooked around his, trying to bring him to ground, but it was the glint of steel that precisely removed his blade from his hand that really surprised him. With her other leg, she kicked his sword away, and he felt his balance shift irretrievably. He landed on the ground heavily, shouting at the flash of pain that meant his largest wound had been reopened.

            Suddenly she was on him, the tiny knife in her hand pricking at the stubble under his chin. Her eyes glinted with amusement and victory. Her dark hair, now completely free of its binding, tickled his face.

            “Never.” She stated softly, lush lips curving upwards. He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks at her proximity. A woman had never put him off-kilter before, and she wasn’t about to be the first.

            He looked her in the eye, blue meeting bronze, and his mouth split in a grin. “I suggest you reconsider.” He gently tapped her side with the point of his drawn wakizashi. Her eyes widened in shock. Then she laughed, a sound that began sultry as a spring breeze then lifted in a crescendo that made Chen laugh along.

            “My, you are unique, Master Chen.” His laughter was cut off as pain streaked through his ribs, making him drop his wakizashi. He began to cough violently, and concern crossed her eyes. Eboshi lifted herself off him, ignoring the drops of blood that had flecked her immaculate makeup. She lifted him to his feet unsteadily, and he nodded his thanks, trying to regain his breath.

            She silently looped his arm over her shoulder, ignoring his protests. She let him down on a short stack of logs, where he collapsed gratefully, coughing finally subsiding. She extricated herself, surprisingly gentle under his heavy arm. He gritted a smile. “Thank you, milady.”

            Eboshi only smiled back before standing to retrieve her sword where it had fallen. She held it out to him, hilt-first. “I’ve found my blade. Can you hold it for me?” He looked at her blankly, still recovering, when he caught her meaning with wide eyes.

            Chen stood straight, masking his pain, ignoring the warm blood staining his father’s robes yet again. He bowed low, and took her offered blade reverently. It was beautiful, a masterwork of bright steel with a diamond-shaped _tsuba_ , azure bands wrapping the two-handed hilt. “Your honor is my own, fair lady.” She tilted her head graciously in reply, before gesturing to Ituse. The woman strode forward, and drew out a vial of golden liquid. Eboshi took it from her before handing it to the confused Chen.

            “Drink this. It will help you recover so we may leave all the sooner. Your Emishi princess waits for us. Good day to you, Master Chen.” She favored him with a last smile, turned smoothly, and Ituse followed her, her gaze moving between Chen and Eboshi with bewilderment.

            He inspected the small container. Hitori advanced carefully, watching the Lady’s retreating back with suspicion before running to him with concern in her eyes.

            _She hurt you! Why do you have a stupid smile on that flat face? She’s not a good human!_

He rubbed his ribs gingerly, smiling. _She’s beautiful._     

            Hitori’s eyes shot wide and she gave up trying to speak, yipping and pawing at him in annoyance.

            Riko, who had been watching the entire event with wide eyes, tried to stammer out some words. Chen reached down and picked up the old sword Eboshi had knocked from his hand. It was light, composed of a dark steel with a slightly blued edge. It had a wolf’s head engraved on the blade. It was too light for him to use…

            “Excuse me, sir, what just happened?” Riko finally made out, still gripping the next weapon.

            “My offer of employment was accepted. Tell me, do you have a sheath for this sword? I have someone in mind for it.”


	7. Chapter 7

Ashitaka carefully placed Yakul’s saddle on his friend’s back, the elk turning back to look at him to make sure he did it exactly right. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to forget how to do this. It’s just as uncomfortable for me...” He adjusted the straps, and looked over the completed network of knots and lashings that bound the saddle to Yakul, fit for a long day’s journey. Sunlight streamed just over the mountains, dew still shining on the rooftops of Irontown, illuminating the preparations surrounding him. Towards the head of the column, he could see Chen walking and laughing beside Captain Ganzo, health and vigor restored to the samurai over the bare week and a half they had prepared for the journey.

            He had recovered miraculously quickly, much faster than should be normal, but Eboshi’s surgeons had put it down to the Northern warrior’s superior constitution. To prove his readiness, Ashitaka had sparred with Chen the day before, and he had more than met him step for step and blow for blow. He rubbed his side with a wry smile. Honestly, he had underestimated the man’s skill.

            Chen caught sight of Ashitaka over the shorter citizens bustling around him, and he saluted Ashitaka with a smile and a small bow. Ashitaka returned the smile and waved. The Lady had accepted his service as a samurai, but Chen had made it quite clear that he would follow Ashitaka’s orders first and foremost. Ashitaka still found it strange that Eboshi had accepted that status without question.

            He caught sight of Kohroku standing near his cargo, his grass-whip poised above the oxen that he drove, keeping a sharp lookout for his wife. Ashitaka smiled wryly and mounted Yakul. Kohroku wouldn’t find Toki out here, she was in a meeting with the Lady and the other female warriors. The women in this town were their own breed, and Lady Eboshi was the strangest of them all.

            He prodded Yakul gently and the elk trotted up the column, the workers and soldiers making way for him easily. None of them knew the real reason they were leaving their home. Eboshi had told them it was merely a trip to the capital, to reach new trade agreements that would help feed their families. Only Ituse, Ganzo, and Toki knew the true reasons.

            He reached Chen at the head of the line, sunlight gleaming on his polished armor. “You ready, My Lo… Ashitaka?” Ashitaka’s eyebrow lifted and he smiled and nodded as Chen chuckled to himself.  “Sorry, still getting used to being friends with my superiors.” A wide grin was on Chen’s face, hand swinging jauntily on the hilt of his new katana. Ashitaka could’ve sworn he had seen the Lady with that blade at least once, and the hilt of yet another sword stuck from over his shoulder.

            “Just about as ready as I can be, Master Chen. I only hope we make it in time.” They both looked out over the departure preparations, workers and warriors mingling with their families to say goodbyes.

            Chen nodded in agreement, smile becoming calculating. “The Lady’s taken quite a bit of time to prepare. I’m sure she has her reasons…”

            “Truth be told, Chen, your injuries cost us time as well.” Chen looked to him, smile fading in surprise. “The only difference is that a Lady’s delays are a necessity, while simple battle wounds are an inconvenience.” Ashitaka stated, clasping him on the shoulder, and Chen roared with laughter, several townspeople turning to look at the source of such loud amusement.

            “Again and again, you surprise me! I would have never guessed there was such a sharp tongue in that royal mouth of yours.” He exclaimed jovially, and Ashitaka allowed a smile to grow. He had never known a man so cheerful, even after what Chen had seen and gone through.

            “Oh, it’s in there. I just don’t let it out much.” He replied. The smiles and chuckles of the surrounding villagers left as soon as they had appeared, and they scurried to get back to their tasks. Ashitaka hid his smile and quickly gestured at Chen to quiet down as Eboshi strode up to them.

            “I trust you gentlemen are idle only because you are ready to depart?” She was somehow resplendent even arrayed in traveling attire, her slanted cap on her head and a rifle over her shoulder. Toki, Ituse, and at least a score of other female soldiers followed her, dressed similarly. Ashitaka had to admit, they were an impressive sight, and Eboshi had been training them hard the past couple of weeks. Almost all of these women had once been prostitutes, the lowest in the eyes of many, but now they were a unified fighting force, unique in all the world. And just about all of them were looking at him appraisingly.

            He reddened, and Chen took over for him. “Yes, my Lady, we were ready the day you agreed to follow us.” One of her eyebrows rose, and Ashitaka smiled, waiting, but the words he expected didn’t come. She turned to him, dark eyes twinkling.

            “Tell me, Ashitaka, do you have a plan to rescue this damsel of yours?”

            He had been hoping she wouldn’t ask that. “Chen and I have… an outline of a plan.” He turned to Chen, who looked back at him sheepishly. “But it is unfortunately incomplete.”

            Her smile grew. “I hope to remedy that. Both of you, meet me in my tent tonight once we settle down, and we shall discuss important things such as plans, and details. And if you happen to see Mononoke, do let her know that she is invited.” She raised her voice, her normally calm tones raising to a commanding level that cut through the chatter of the crowd like a katana. “We shall depart presently! The gates shall be closed after us in ten minutes!” All assembled immediately began final preparations, ox drivers checking the lashing of cargo, soldiers looking over blades and covering guns, and the gatemen began to pull the massive log gate up to reveal the green land beyond.

            Lady Eboshi mounted her warhorse, one of the few in Irontown, and directed her company of riflewomen to assemble at the front of the caravan. The pair of warriors followed suit, Yakul tailing Ashitaka closely, not needing a lead. They placed themselves in line between the cargo drivers and the lines of soldiers, the first group no longer needing the protection of the second. Ashitaka could hear the ox drivers expressing wonder and trepidation about the upcoming journey, their loads no longer in danger from vengeful spirits.

            Ashitaka looked around as he settled in next to the others. Chen was already engaged in conversation with a polegun-wielding soldier, so he took the scarce seconds to think. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that he had succeeded, surviving to unite these people. Ashitaka watched as Chen held the sturdy pole up experimentally, the rifleman laughing as he showed him the correct way to hold it. Nearby, Kohroku was talking animatedly with Genro, the pair of them standing with whips ready. They could live without fear now.

            Ashitaka smiled as his thoughts turned to San once more. He knew that he could have never done it without her. He shook his head, rueful. Would his thoughts ever be his own, ever again? Or would she always haunt them?

            His train of thought was interrupted as a bolt of dark fur flashed through the open gate, causing a few of the soldiers to recoil before realizing who it was. Hitori panted with exertion, the small wolf slowing as she approached. She seemed calm enough, so Ashitaka relaxed. She trotted up to him, recognizing him immediately.

            _Blue boy! Where is brother?_

 _You cannot see him?_ Ashitaka replied, thinking his words through. He turned, and Chen was in the middle of a group of soldiers, laughing and jesting with all of them as they showed him the procedures for using a firearm. He shrugged, and knelt next to Hitori.

            _Do all humans move their mouths so much?_ Her gaze turned back to Ashitaka. _I guess you don’t…  She said I could tell you. Wolf-human-sister is ready, she and brothers will come with us when we pass them._

Ashitaka smiled, despite himself. He had not seen San since they had parted almost two weeks ago, but in that moment his excitement outweighed his anxiety. _I am happy she brings her brothers. What do you think of them?_

Hitori cocked her head at him, laying down to rest. _They are big._ Ashitaka laughed at the simplicity of her answer, but she wasn’t done. _I have not seen them much, they are often away. But it is… very nice to see wolves again, even if one of them is human._ She paused. _I miss my family._ Ashitaka nodded, smile fading. She turned to him, ears up in curiosity. _Do you miss your family?_

            A wry smile touched his lips. It had been so long… _Sometimes, little one._

She looked up at him, as if trying to see into him. _I’m sorry about your almost-sister. I only saw her once, but she smiled at me._ Ashitaka’s smile left him _,_ and he tried to drive the nightmarish imaginations from his head _. She looked very nice._ Hitori continued, standing and moving closer, bright blue eyes gazing up at him. _I’m so happy we found you. Now you can go save her. I know-_ She stopped suddenly. She lifted her front legs up on Ashitaka’s sitting form, forcing him to face her. _I’m not helping much, am I?_

Ashitaka smiled and shook his head. Her ears drooped and said nothing, but simply crawled into his lap and curled there. He sat up in surprise, gray eyes going wide, completely unsure of what to do. He looked around helplessly. She had grown since Chen had arrived in Irontown, and her weight was solid, if soft. She looked up at him with one eye, her soft breathing a rhythm against his stomach. It was strangely comforting. He let himself relax, smiling once again, stroking the small wolf carefully. He would accept whatever comfort she could give him.

            Hitori made a satisfied sound. _Behind the ears will do._

………

            San knelt on her mother’s grave. The grass surrounding the healing spring had yet to cover the large mound, and raw earth rubbed the hard skin of her knees. The spring itself was still recovering from the destructions that had wracked it, and the bones of trees lay covering the bones of beasts and men.

            San took a deep breath, letting it out shudderingly. Her hands tightened in the soil. “Mother. I… I’m leaving. I’m going with Ashitaka.” There was silence. She hadn’t expected anything, of course. Moro had died in peace, there was no reason for her to return. It had taken San a very long time to bury her. Kiba and Tsume hadn’t seen a need to cover their mother’s body from the elements and corruptions of death. After a while, they had joined her, as if to humor San’s feeble attempts to dig a grave large enough to hold the Wolf goddess.

            “He goes to save… a _girl_. And he won’t tell me… so much.” She stated helplessly, pleading to the silent mound.

            “I wish you were still here, mother. I _miss_ you.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She heaved a breath. “You would know what to do.” She stuck her hand into the soil of the grave, feeling the cool softness spread around her fingers. She removed it.

            On the grave of the Wolf goddess lay a human handprint. San groaned within herself and curled up until her knees touched her chest. Her hands covered her face, but she ignored the dirt scraping across her eyelids. _I’m nothing but a stupid, foolish, moonstruck human!_

             “I told him it was for us, for the Wolf tribe. To help Hitori, to stop the humans before they kill any more of us!” San drew in on herself, hugging her shoulders as her features twisted, trying to decide which emotion reigned within her. “But I _lied_! Damn him, I LIED!” She shouted, the force of her voice sending birds into the air and echoes across the lake. The sun shifted patiently through the leaves, dappling the ground around her, illuminating her anguish.

            “I’m doing it for him.” She whispered in the following silence. “I’m… _so_ sorry.” She felt the padded footsteps of her brothers approaching behind her. San sat up, not hiding the budding tears nor her anguish.

            “San, what is wrong?” Tsume asked her, his deeper voice somehow carrying the intimacy of a whisper. Kiba rounded the mound, looking at her in concern, and then at the handprint on the grave.

            “What am I?” She asked the pair of them, not meeting either Kiba nor Tsume’s eyes. She paused, breath coming in ragged gasps.

            Moro had made it clear to San, since the day that she found her voice, that she could never be a wolf. Although she had been disappointed, San had tried her very best to fit in, to be like her family. She tried to imitate the ferocity of Kiba, the wisdom of Tsume, and the power of her mother. They had taken her in, protected her against the harsh winters and treated her like one of them. Moro had _died_ , saving her worthless life! And how did she repay them?

            By falling in love with a _human_.

            San clenched her fist, and raised it above her head, ready to plunge it into the ground, to destroy once and forever the mark of humanity she had made. But yet, she wavered, her hand shaking.

            “I’m not a wolf. I’m not a human. What _am_ _I_?” She pled softly, to nothing and everything there was. Kiba’s nosed gently nudged her, moving her arm back to her side. She looked to him, downcast, the long-held despair finally seeping through her.

            “You are San.” Tsume said.

            “You are Mononoke.”  Kiba supplied, his normally energetic manner subdued. Tsume moved her head up with the tip of his nose, forcing her to turn and meet his golden eyes.

            “You are our mother’s daughter.” He turned, and deliberately drove his massive paw into the soil next to the delicate handprint. Kiba followed suit, marking the same on the other side. They both looked at her, eyes filled with determination.

            “You are our sister.” They intoned in unison. The tears welled within her. She took a deep breath, and tried to shove them away, but it was in vain. Tears began to fall from her eyes, running across the paint on her cheeks, red falling from her chin like blood. She reached out and embraced her brothers, letting them gently guide her so she lay between them, like they had done during the harsh winters.

            “You are human. But we will never be ashamed of you for who you truly are. Never forget, little one.” Kiba’s voice came. Two necklaces of fangs pressed against her chest, one of bones, one of crystal. One from her stern mother, the other from a boy with kind gray eyes.

            San’s voice broke on her first try, but when the words finally came, they were strong. “I won’t. I promise.”


	8. Mononoke 8

Eboshi waited. Ituse and Toki sat to her right, chatting to each other as Ganzo stood behind, still as a stone. Next to him, in the shadows sat Dayihata, the linen-wrapped leper tinkering to himself with a small bag of levers and springs, mixing muttered technical phrases with the occasional chuckle. Ganzo was watching the small man with befuddlement. Despite his curiosity and skill with them, the large man had always favored blades over guns.

            Eboshi’s sword, a twin of the one she had given Chen, save for the crimson-wrapped hilt, lay beside her. She looked down at it with displeasure. It was the only weapon she could use with any amount of skill, anymore. One arm simply could not operate a rifle. Dayihata and his team were working as hard as they could, however, and Eboshi would not push them. Hasty work in the field of flame and iron could prove deadly.

            Her tent was a large one, able to hold all in it with room for more. A small fire burned in the center of the tent, smoke venting safely into the chilly night air. Eboshi was analyzing the rough carpet that protected them from the bare rock of the mountain pass, when she heard Chen’s name passed from Ituse to Toki. She began to listen.

            “-he didn’t go easy _at_ _all_ , and I have to admit, I was actually scared for the Lady more than once, he was so good. He was wounded, too!”

            “Yeah, he’s certainly good with those blades. Were you there when he fought Ashitaka?”

            Ituse nodded, wide eyed. “It was _amazing_ , they were so evenly matched. You should have heard the cheers the girls were giving them, Ashitaka was blushing the entire fight, the poor kid! Didn’t do a thing to Chen, though. He just kept that smile on his face… You know, that _one_ smile?” She winked conspiratorially at Toki, adjusting the belt of powder charges crossing her shoulder.

            Toki snorted in amusement. “Yeah, Ituse, I know which one. Ya know, if I wasn’t married…”

            “You keep saying that, Toki, but I’m pretty sure you never mean it…”

            Toki laughed, her large eyes sparkling. “Yeah, you’re right. Chen’s gorgeous, but Kohroku got there first. I’ll always love the lug, despite his face.” Ituse smiled in a I-knew-it kind of way, but then her eyes shot open as Toki poked her shoulder. “You though, you’re single! Why don’t _you_ try to catch his eye, you’re pretty enough.”

            Ituse reddened, but her face fell. “No, I’ve had enough of warriors. I don’t want any more dying on me.”

            Toki sobered and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

            Ituse waved it off, hesitated, then beckoned Toki to come closer. Eboshi had to lean in slightly to hear the next words. “You know what I think? I think Chen’s got his eyes set on someone already, and it’s not one of us. A little _higher_ in the food chain, if you get me…”  She trailed off and followed Toki’s eyes to where Eboshi smiled imperiously at them. Ituse went white, and Toki gave her best innocent smile.

            “Milady, I have _no_ idea what she’s talking about.”

            “I’m sure you do not. Ituse, it would mean a lot to me if you could please refrain from spreading such rumors. Am I understood?” The pair of women nodded hurriedly, Ituse breathing easier already. Life had taught them many lessons that couldn’t be learned in any court or classroom, but they were still hardly more than girls. Eboshi herself had learned those lessons, albeit in a different way.

            She removed herself from thoughts of the past as someone entered the tent. To the surprise of all, it was Mononoke. She settled herself in the farthest corner of the tent uncomfortably, meeting Eboshi’s eyes directly. She wore only her dagger at her side, but her eyes were red… from tears? A smile quirked Eboshi’s lips. It seemed that Ashitaka _had_ broken something after all.

            Toki and Ituse had quieted, the former glaring with a slow-burning rage at the red-painted girl. Contrary to Ashitaka’s hopes, not all hatred in Irontown had been extinguished so quickly. Mononoke did not shrink under her gaze, but met it evenly. Toki watched her as well, expression carefully neutral. The tension could be cut with a dull tanto.

            “Welcome, princess. I am surprised to see you here so early, passing up on your usual theatrics.”

            Mononoke did not deign to reply, and Eboshi was impressed by the girl. Even if she was a Princess only in name, she still possessed a natural air of royalty that few could match, and it had taken Eboshi herself many years to cultivate her own aura of nobility and mystery. _Her mother taught her well._

            It was strange, being able to sit across from the enemy that had plagued her and her dream for over three years. Eboshi could give the order, and Mononoke would be dead before she got out the door. But here she was, unafraid, trusting -at least to a point- that she would be safe here. She was so young, not even eighteen, if Eboshi had to guess.

            Where would she be if those wolves hadn’t taken her all those years ago? Would her family have united themselves to Irontown? She would just be San, another girl of the iron, too young to fight and just come of age to work the bellows. The picture came, unbidden, of Mononoke laughing with Toki and the other girls, an expression of joy on her unmarked young face. Eboshi’s smile faded.

            There was such pain in the girl’s eyes. Eboshi had seen it before, but only now did she consider where it came from. She had been the one to cause the death of the girl’s mother. Once again, Mononoke was an orphan. What had Eboshi caused in the events of the last month? Only time would tell.

            Infectious laughter carried through the door as Chen and Ashitaka entered together. The boy held the flap open for the large warrior to step in behind him, a wide smile on Ashitaka’s face.

            “-and then she asked me what I meant by that! Tell me, Ashitaka, how could I possibly have been _any_ more clear?” Ashitaka laughed again, an honest sound, and Eboshi caught the wistful smile that flicked across Mononoke’s painted face.

            Ashitaka made to reply, but then his eyes landed on the wolf girl. She looked back at him, gaze controlled once more. His smile wavered, then grew wider. “San. I didn’t think we’d see you so soon.” He said, sitting next to her. Chen straightened, dressed in those simple, well-worn black robes that she had fought him in. Her sword was at his waist, and another was on his back.

            “Evening, Lady Eboshi. Greetings, Captains.” Chen bowed once to Eboshi, earning a small smile, and saluted Toki, Ituse, and Ganzo in turn. He bowed once more to the Princess, who gave him a confused look. Dakiyata, who had not looked up at the new arrivals, warranted a curious glance. Chen bridged the gap by sitting between Toki and Mononoke, nodding politely to the replied greetings. Ganzo nudged Dayihata, and the man gathered his tinkerings and the pair sat in the circle around the fire as well.

            Mononoke muttered something to Ashitaka that Eboshi couldn’t catch, and he nodded. He said something in reply that made her cover a smile. At least she had one source of joy, as much as young love counted. In Eboshi’s experience, it didn’t count for much.

            “Now that we are all here, we should begin.” Eboshi raised her voice slightly, and all others quieted. “I have gathered you here today to discuss plans. I shall debrief us presently, so we all understand properly the events set in motion by Master Chen’s arrival.” She looked over all in the circle, making sure they all met her eyes in turn.

            “Now as we know-“ She was interrupted by a dark furry mass as Hitori scrambled into the tent at high speed, almost tripping into the small firepit. Chen reached out and snagged her before she could tumble in, and she looked around at the assemblage with wide eyes.

            A young female voice spoke in Eboshi’s head. _Sorry, gunlady!_

Eboshi couldn’t hide the expression of shock that crossed her face, nor the thoughts that leapt out in reply. _What the hell-_

The wolf seemed to grin at her. _Chen told me to be nice to you, so I’ll try my best. No promises though._ Eboshi furiously grabbed back control of her mind and expression, but not before she caught a thin smile on Mononoke’s face. The others were all watched her curiously, waiting for her next words. A forest god had never spoken to her directly before, and it disturbed her how… _human_ the voice was. She summoned a reply, meeting the sharp blue eyes. _Thank you, Hitori. I’ll keep that in mind._

            “As we know…” She started again, taking a breath. “Master Chen learned two things from his time in the Capitol. Firstly, that Shogun Nokurashi and the Emperor are seeking power from demons, and he has succeeded in his purpose. Tell me, Chen, did he have any purple and red blotches on his arms or body? Those are the signs of a demon touch.”

            “No, milday, not that I could see.”

            Eboshi nodded, and Ashitaka spoke up, voice grave. “It is possible it hadn’t yet spread through his body. But continue.”

            “The second thing we know is that the Empire has, within its grasp, the location of the Emishi, an enemy that has evaded them for centuries. The only things stopping them from achieving this purpose is the willpower of a young girl. Is this Kaya strong in character?” Ashitaka and Chen both nodded, then looked to each other, Chen giving him a wan smile.

            “As of this point they have been questioning her for about a month and a half. Assuming she is their only source of information and that she has not already given them what they seek, they will not kill her. So your mission, that I will _assist_ you with, is to reach the capitol, save this girl and get her out alive. Let us first look at our resources. We have four areas of skill to draw from.” She took a second to consider where to begin.

            Eboshi gestured at Ashitaka. “We have a highly skilled warrior who knows the target personally. You have skill in stealth, I presume?” Ashitaka nodded. “That will be useful. Next we have Mononoke, another warrior who knows the ways of the Forest gods, and is _highly_ competent in the area of stealth.” Eboshi gave a slight smile, and Mononoke stayed silent. “I know this from experience.”

            Eboshi resisted the urge to stretch, back growing stiff from holding a cross-legged position. “Unfortunately, this group knows next to nothing about the environment nor the politics of the Empire. This can be remedied, however. But first we shall continue. Our next resource is quite substantial. Master Chen.”

            A small chuckle escaped from Chen’s mouth. “I assure you, milady, I have been trying to keep my weight down as of late.” She simply looked at him until his smile faded. Eboshi waited. “Quite substantial.” She repeated, “We have in our presence, a _former_ Captain of the Great Empire, who knows the layout of the city and warcamps, and has been granted access to the secret layers of the palace, where the target is held. He also possesses knowledge of the high-level persons involved, as well as the current political trends and allegiances.”

            Chen smiled and inclined his head slightly. “I’m not too sure how useful I’ll be with the politics, but I’ll try my best.”

            “Our third resource combines the various skills and might of the people of Irontown. I have brought eighty of my warriors, forty of which carry the last rifles to leave the great forge before the destruction. Master Dayihata here,” She gestured at the leper beside her who looked up with a short chuckle. “is our resident expert in the field of firearms, and would gladly train any of you in their use.”

            His one eye closed good-humoredly, smile stretching the bandages covering his face. “Like the lady said, anytime. I always enjoy showing you honorable sword-swingers how to use cowardly weapons.” His chuckling subsided into a fit of coughing that did nothing to lessen his good mood, and Eboshi let him give his attention back to the spring-loaded actions he was working on. Chen and Ashitaka were both eyeing the gunsmith curiously.

            “Thank you, Dayi. My soldiers are led by Captains Ganzo, Ituse, and Toki. They will not be assisting us in the actual rescue, only as an escort against the warlords that rule the country we will be entering.”

            Eboshi leaned forward, making sure she met Ashitaka’s eyes. His steel eyes gazed into hers, firm and resolute. “I do not intent to join or start a war. My primary concern is to protect the people that trust me. Am I understood?”

            Ashitaka nodded solemnly. “While your help would be appreciated, I will not ask you to fight for the Emishi.” Eboshi nodded, looking over the group.

            “Milady, may I speak?” Toki asked.

            “Toki, you can always speak your mind. Being a Captain changes nothing.”

            She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “We all owe Ashitaka a great debt, as he saved all our lives. Now he needs our help, to save his friend Kaya. No offense to my lady, but our debt to him is not through you.” Eboshi raised an eyebrow, but Toki continued, looking to Ashitaka. “I love you, my Lady, but I will help Ashitaka whether it is your will or not.”

            Eboshi fixed Toki with her dark eyes, but she did not back down, sitting up straight and meeting her gaze head-on.

            “Very well. I did not plan for my lieutenants to accompany me on the actual mission, but I will find a spot for you.” Toki let out a sudden breath and gave a surprised smile to Ashitaka. A grateful smile grew on his face, and he pressed a hand to his chest in some sign of his gratitude.

            Eboshi continued. “Some aspects of the plan will require certain amounts of… finesse. I will assist, when necessary, and-”

            Mononoke cut in impatiently. “Where are you going with all this talk?”

            Ituse shot back, “Do not interrupt the Lady Eboshi! Show respect, if you know how.” San’s gaze flashed to her and narrowed, anger rising. Ashitaka leaned in and placed a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off. Neither woman made further movement, however, settling for trying to set the other to flames using only their eyes. Eboshi eyed them carefully, then continued.

……..

            Ashitaka tensed, readying himself to restrain her, but San calmed herself, taking a deep breath before opening her eyes again, the cold fire in them blending with their natural shade of blue. Ituse was still glaring at her, hand on the rifle resting on the ground like a sunning snake, and Ashitaka met her eyes. At his pleading gaze, Ituse reluctantly loosed her grip on the weapon. She was a good woman, but he knew it would take more than peace to set her at ease with San.

            “The last resource at our disposal, is I.” Unconsciously, his focus shifted as Eboshi stood elegantly. “I possess knowledge of the Imperial Court that is second to none in our present company. I know the rules, procedures, and traditions of the highborn.” A smiled flicked across her features. “As well as exactly how to… _break_ those rules. This brings me to the next topic.”

            She sat once again, gesturing to Chen. “Master samurai, is a frontal assault of the lower levels feasible?”

            Chen grunted a laugh. “No. The only reason I got through the defenses was because of deception.”

            “Even with the combined skills of Mononoke, Askitaka, and yourself?”

            “Unfortunately, no.”  

            Eboshi spread her arm in a wry gesture. “So a direct attack is out of the question. But before I present my plan, I should like to hear your opinions.” 

            They sat in silence for several seconds. Toki finally spoke up. “But stealth isn’t entirely out of the question?”

            Chen answered carefully. “No, it still has a place.” He turned to San respectfully, “Princess, I would like to test your skills sometime during this journey, preferably as soon as possible. Is that something-“

            “Yes. I had wondered the same thing.” She stated briefly, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

            Chen, slightly taken aback at the suddenness of her reply, nodded. “Thank you. Stealth will be useful, but I know that it alone will not be enough. The defenses are too well designed. We will need a distraction.”

            A thought occurred to Ashitaka. “San, what will your brothers be doing through all of this?” She met his eyes, and for some reason a small bit of her hardness slipped away.

            “They will not come in any city unless another god is in danger. They will guard and alert me to any threats until then.” 

            “Good to know. They could be powerful allies.” Chen turned to Eboshi. “I assume your plan includes major elements of… distraction?”

            A smile curled on her lips. “You could say that. The first thing you should all know, is that at our present pace, we will arrive at Duan-Zen during the Red Blossom Festival. During that time, the common people will be celebrating for the full week, and the nobility will gather for nightly revelries. This is a drain on the resources of the Capitol, but more so on its security. With soldiers of the Imperial Army not permitted inside the city for fear of overcrowding, the city and palace guards will be stretched to their limit ready to defend the nobility against their many enemies.”

            Chen grinned and nodded. “I had forgotten about that. Yes, with most of the Armies returned from campaigns, it will be a good bit easier on us once we’re within the walls.”

            “I am a curiosity to people within the capitol, not an enemy. I have traded with them, done business with them, but always from a distance. They have heard the tales of the infamous ‘Iron Lady’, the woman with no name that single-handedly brought low the ancient gods of the west. We will arrive at the capitol in style, with pomp and circumstance, and I will give them the show they want.”

            “And all of it will be a distraction while we go save Kaya?” Ashitaka asked skeptically.

            Eboshi laughed. “Not so fast, my Prince. When we arrive, we will not know the state of the defenses. It is possible, after Chen’s infiltration, that they might have moved Kaya to a separate location. No, we will not attempt an infiltration until later in the week. The first nights will be mostly composed of sneaking about, trying to fill the holes in our information regarding the Capitol’s defenses and locations.”

            Ashitaka spoke then, slowly and deliberately. “What are your plans for me? Those that have seen Kaya might recognize the Emishi bloodline.”

            She turned to him. “I cannot hide you, that is certain. The spies that will be swarming the Capitol will see you soon enough. It will be hard enough hiding master Chen.”

            Ashitaka took a deep breath. “I will not stand idly by while Kaya suffers. What do you have in mind?”

            Eboshi turned to him, smile becoming calculating. “I will hide you in plain sight. You will become Kage, my heir, and will accompany me to the celebrations. Because I am showing them something that they are not expecting, they will never think to look for the thing they _should_ be expecting. It will be the easiest way to hide your identity, and provide you learn quickly enough, you will look so much like a noble of the Imperial court that they will not see the Prince you truly are underneath. Am I making sense?”

            Ashitaka’s wide eyes narrowed, and he lowered his head as shock rose in him. Was this truly her plan? For him to disguise himself as something he was not? _Kage… a shadow._

            “I… I am not an actor.” He replied, mentally stunned.

            “You do not need to be.” She replied immediately. “You have a natural aura of leadership, and you will not need to hide your genuine personality. Nobody in the court knows you. And I will help you.”

            “How will I be a part of the rescue mission?”

            “When the time comes, you will leave my company and join Chen and Mononoke in the infiltration.”

            Ashitaka clenched his fists. He had known they wouldn’t be able to just fight their way in. But he had hoped… He didn’t even know what he had hoped. That maybe that the solution would come, present itself when the time came, like it always had.

            But hope alone would not save Kaya. And worse, Eboshi’s plan made sense. He wouldn’t be able to hide any other way, and he was no mastermind, to construct and execute complicated plans. _And besides,_ he thought wryly to himself, _maybe I’ll actually get a chance to apply what father taught me._ She was watching him now, expression carefully neutral, but her knew her better, now. She _wanted_ him to do this.

            It seemed that he would have to trust Lady Eboshi. A though struck him, one that would have been amusing in any other circumstance. _I’m trusting someone to help deceive others._ “I will do it. Whatever it takes.”

            A smile appeared on her face, but Ashitaka was shocked to see it reach her eyes. And was that a _gasp_ he heard from San? “Good. I will instruct you on the road, with practical demonstrations whenever we have time. Now we come to-“

            San stood deliberately. Eboshi stopped speaking, looking up at the girl. Her voice came, quiet and firm. “I will come with you.”


	9. Mononoke 9

Eboshi’s eyes went wide, and Ashitaka looked up at her in confusion.

            “San, what do you mean?” She caught the worry, the concern in his voice. She didn’t meet his eyes, instead spoke directly to Eboshi. “I will come with you.”

            Eboshi’s eyes narrowed derisively. “Please do not jest with me, Mononoke. You, in the Imperial Court? You would be torn to shreds by words and threats, or would kill the first person to look at you crossways.”

            Ituse muttered, just loud enough, “She’d have to be human, too…” San almost snapped at her, but held herself back just in time.

            Ashitaka interjected before the woman could make another barbed comment. “San, you’re not-“

            San finally faced him, anger rising. How _dare_ he- _No_. He just didn’t understand. “Shut up, Ashitaka.” She commanded, and luckily for him, he did. “I will be whatever I need to be, and I’m not letting you walk into a pit of vipers with their queen.” She spat, throwing an accusing look at Eboshi. San took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm so she could continue to speak. “At least, not alone.”

            She looked into his eyes again, and in them she could see his questions, his pain. For her. He wanted to protect her, did he?

            She thrust her shoulders back, standing tall, exuding authority. “I will come with you, Eboshi. I, San Mononoke of the Moro Tribe, will learn to be human, and you will teach me.” The two women’s eyes met, and Eboshi’s smile was gone. “Do you understand?” San stated, without a hint of humor in her voice. Ituse and Toki looked on with wide eyes, and Ganzo had shifted so he could draw his sword at a moment’s notice. Chen watched, taking everything in. Ashitaka was speechless, breathless. He would know. He would know soon enough why. Eboshi’s eyes were harder than the steel she created.

            “Yes, Princess Mononoke. I will teach you.”

            Ituse and Toki both gasped, and Ituse shouted, “No, Milady! She just wants to get close to you so she can-“

            “Silence!” Eboshi commanded. “Mononoke did not take her vengeance when we were in the forest, and she will not do so now.” She stood, facing San across the fire. “It seems we have a common interest.” She stated, voice light once more, and San did not reply. “You would do this, join us, become so human as to fool the Emperor himself?”

            If she was going to do this, she would do it the human way. What did humans do when they were serious? They made oaths. Wolves never made oaths, their word was their word. But with this woman, San needed the highest assurance.

            San drew her bone dagger from its sheath at her side, the well-worn leather sliding silently. Ganzo grunted, gripping the hilt of his weapon, and Chen sat up straighter. She silently raised a hand, and with the dagger, drew a line of blood across her palm. She let no trace of pain cross her features even as throbbing erupted in her mind, and she was aware of Ashitaka watching, horrified, as her blood dripped onto the rock of the bare mountain. “As the moon shines, I swear that I will not harm you, Eboshi of Irontown.” The words came as smoothly as she could possibly make them. She sheathed the dagger and held the bleeding hand out over the fire, where blood dripped to sizzle on the burning logs. “Now swear the same. Not for me, but for Ashitaka.” She directed, voice cold and firm.

            “San…” Ashitaka groaned, looking up at her pleadingly. She fixed him with a hard gaze that could freeze an open flame, but the fear in his eyes…

            Eboshi looked at her, silent. Ignoring her captain’s protests, with a deft movement, she drew a blade from the folds of her garment and placed the hilt in her teeth. With a careful twist of her neck, she sliced her palm as well, spitting the small blade to clatter on the rock surrounding the fire. Not even the thought of a wince crossed her face.

            She reached out, and the women clasped hands, blood flashing and sparking as it fell into the burning coals. “I swear by my honor, that I will do Prince Ashitaka of the Emishi no harm, nor will I betray him into the hands of his enemies.” Their eyes met, and San shook the hand of the woman that had killed her mother and destroyed her world. Could she trust her now? San doubted it, but time would tell. At least he would stand more of a chance, with her by his side.

            San released her hand and sat silently as the captains immediately began questioning Eboshi, the tall woman seating herself gracefully and letting Toki wrap her hand.

            Ashitaka moved closer to San, letting only one word out of his mouth. “Why?” He asked simply, pleadingly. She tilted her head, letting the hardness fall away. He really didn’t understand, did he? She reached out and placed her unbloodied hand on his chest. On the wound where she had tried, in her moment of desperate, frustrated agony, to end him and all he stood for. And what had he done in return?

            He had held her as she cried.

            “You’ve done enough for me, Ashitaka. You’ve bled, you’ve suffered.” She could feel his heartbeat, his strong breaths moving her entire arm. San shivered suddenly. He had _died_ for her.

            “It’s my turn.” She stated, barely keeping the quaver out of her voice.

            He reached up and took her hand. The touch of his fingers, slim and strong, sent warmth through her, quite different than the warm blood seeping from her clenched fist. “Thank you, San.” He took her hand, and held it gently, giving her oh, _that_ smile. The one the melted her inside, and brought a smile to her own reluctant lips. He simply held her hand for a moment. A wonderful moment.

            Then she caught Chen looking at the pair of them, a smile beaming on his face, and she wrenched her hand away vehemently before a blush could overtake her. Ashitaka’s face fell for a moment before realizing who was looking, then he laughed. The sound was breathless with relief.

            Chen kept on smiling, but pulled a strip of white cloth from a fold in his robe, handing it to Hitori, who took it in her mouth and ran around Ashitaka to San, who took it gratefully, wrapping the shallow cut with the skill of one who had been wounded many times. San did not know why she had so few scars. _Thank you, little sister._

Hitori looked up at her imploringly. _Does this mean you’re not a wolf anymore? Are you still my sister?_

San smiled and touched the top of her head fondly. _Do not worry. Just because I am not entirely a wolf, does not mean I am not your sister._ Hitori wagged her tail once, then licked away the bloodstains from San’s hand.

            Eboshi was talking again, but San did not listen. She had heard all she needed to hear. She would join Ashitaka and Eboshi in this “court.” She would help Ashitaka find Kaya. She would learn more about the other Forest Gods. And she would be San the entire time.

            She heard Chen’s voice, and decided to listen. If he was going to “evaluate” her, maybe she should listen to what he had to say. He seemed nice enough. He was speaking to Eboshi. “Did I mention that I told my lieutenants about Kaya and her message? They supported me and delayed my enemies’ pursuit, and are waiting for my return with Prince Ashitaka at the prime warcamp just outside the main bridge. My division numbers approximately, oh, 200 men.”  He surveyed the expressions of all around him. “I guess I forgot to mention that…”

            “Yes, Master Chen, that would have been a particularly valuable addition to the current conversation.” Eboshi stated dryly. “Ten minutes ago.” San laughed at his abashed expression, surprising herself and drawing the other’s attention to her. San looked away quickly from Eboshi’s narrowed gaze and Ashitaka’s curious glance.

            Eboshi yawned elegantly, waving at the group dismissively. “Well, now that Chen’s _totally_ thrown off the course of the plan, we will adjourn presently and continue tomorrow night. Agreed?”

            Murmers of assent followed her words, and San stroked Hitori once more before standing and leaping over the fire, twisting around a surprised Chen to bolt out the tent’s flap. The sooner she was out of that small space the better. With the growing moon guiding her footsteps, she soon left the watchfires and mounds of tents behind, ascending the bluffs and crags of the mountain pass. But as the wind blew through her short hair, she felt something watching her. She paused and turned back, the Iron Mountains spreading below her, the scrubby trees and rugged stones in the valley below lit in that pale gray. But just outside one of the rings of firelight in the camp below, she saw a single figure, looking up at the mountain face. It waved.

            A smile grew, longing and joyful and fearful all at the same time, and her throbbing hand unconsciously reached up to the blade hanging around her neck. She waved back. He _would_ tell her, one day. But now… She would enjoy every moment.

………

            Chen played the song of the dawn. The well-worn wooden flute sang in his hands under his breath, and he rejoiced in the sound. The morning light was just beginning to lighten the horizon, edging the eastern hills with a salmon glow. He played the song that the elders had taught all the children of Reiti, and the notes still came as they had that midsummer’s eve when he had left his family. His mother’s flute was still in his rucksack back in the Third Legion’s barracks.

            It felt like it had been _ages_ since he had last played, but it still reminded him of home, and Kohroku’s flute was surprising him with its quality. The man himself was pretty good, he might be able to hold his own against the children of Chen’s village, and any man who shared his instrument had honor. He paused to take a breath and realized he was not alone. But Chen continued to play anyway, the soft yet piercing tones having an unknown effect on his invisible audience.

            The song of dawn continued in its vein of brightness, the melody rising and lifting as if on the thread of the winds themselves, until it finally ended with the final strands of hope drifting into the world as a breath of his own life. He took the flute from his lips, adjusting his sword belt. “The Lady Eboshi did not overstate your skill, Princess. I haven’t the slightest idea when you arrived.” He looked up, sharp eyes picking out the shape of the teenager above him in the tree. She dropped beside him lightly, landing in a crouch.

            “I told you, you can call me San.” She stated simply, rising. Her voice wasn’t hard, nor was it soft. She was prepared for training, her long-hafted spear in one hand and her dagger at her belt. A short cloak of fur was on her back, and a round red and white mask with gaping eyeholes was perched on her head. Chen smiled at her, but she only looked curiously at the flute in his hand. “That was… beautiful. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

            “You’ve never heard a flute before?” He stated incredulously. She looked to him, blue eyes blank.

            “What’s a flute? That wooden thing?”

            “Wait, you’ve never heard _music_?”

            San tilted her head quizzically. “That’s the word for noises that are in a certain order, right? Wolves don’t know music.” Chen stared at her, mouth open and eyes wide. A nervous smile broke on her face. “What?”

            Chen closed his mouth, blinked, and then patted the fallen log next to her. “Lady San, put down your weapons for a minute. I know you agreed to take humanity lessons from Lady Eboshi, but I believe I may also be of assistance in some areas. The Lady herself is not a musician, at least as far as I know.” San sat hesitantly, placing her spear on the ground, childlike curiosity beginning to show in those beautiful eyes. She almost looked like a northerner… _My, Ashitaka really did do well for himself._ He shook himself.

            “Milady, I don’t know about wolves or other gods, but there are three events that separate humanity from trees and rocks.” He leaned in, making sure she was watching him. He held up one finger. “Sharing a warming fire with another.” She watched him skeptically as the second finger rose. “Loving and sharing the beautiful thing only known as music, also with another.” He whipped up the flute and let out a flurry of notes, the muscles remembering the places they had to be, and she gave a smile that reached her eyes as the sparkling melody wrapped around them. He let it down just as quickly. “That shall have to be the subject of another lesson to itself. But the last…” He leaned in again, and this time, she leaned closer as well.

            He paused, for dramatic effect. And also to get his words together. But they came through, like they always did. “And last of all, when a human shows their love for another.” Her hand, wrapped in his bandage, went to the crystal around her neck. He nodded, a smile growing gently on his face. “Yes.” She reddened, but her hand didn’t leave the dagger, and she met his eyes.

            “Those are the three things?”

             “The three standards for being human, by Chen Adrei, son of Adrei Crioe.”

            San nodded, expression becoming serious once again. “Thank you.”

            “You should try singing. I bet you’d have a beautiful voice. So what is howling then, if not music?”

            “It’s not music. It’s a language.”

            Chen’s brow furrowed. “A language?” San turned to him, excitement growing in her eyes.

            She nodded emphatically. “The language of wolves to each other over long distance.” She cocked her head, and added as an afterthought. “And to the moon.”

            Chen’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what?”

            Her eyes glazed over, and an expression of wonder lit up her face. “One night, when I was young, it even answered-“ He held a finger to her lips, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

            “Don’t tell me.” She looked to him in shock as he removed the finger. “Tell him first.” Understanding blossomed on her face, a34nd she nodded with a grateful smile. He grinned. “Then tell me. ‘Cause I _really_ want to hear about that.” 

            “You could ask Hitori, though the moon might not have answered her yet. All wolves are born with that language in them.”

            Chen nodded, trying not to let his questions burst out. They sat in silence for a short time, watching the colors in the sky turn from pink to orange, lighting the retreating clouds as streaks of fire in the sky.

            “I’ve always wanted to see what was beyond those hills.” He looked to her, ready to ask a question, but the contemplative look in her eyes warned him not to. “Mother never let me leave the territory, though. ‘This is our land. Why do we need another?’, she would say.” She took a slow breath. “Now she’s dead, and I’m leaving.”

            She looked to him then. Chen returned her gaze. He didn’t know how to respond. So he didn’t, just gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Her expression didn’t change, and they watched the sun rise.

            Chen set the flute down carefully and clapped his hands, standing. “All right! Let’s see your skills, Princess San! Show me your weapons, spear first.” She stood as well, twirling the length of wood expertly before placing it in Chen’s expectant hands.

            He clasped it firmly, eyeing it. He pounded the butt into the ground, feeling the vibrations spread solidly through him. “Young oak. Nice spring, but core is solid enough. What is the head? Bone?”  

            She nodded. “The bones of my grandfather. The dagger is made of one of his fangs.”

            Chen took a long glance at the ten-inch blade of her dagger, and shuddered exaggeratedly. “Large fellow, was he?”

            She smiled and nodded an affirmative. “He was over a thousand years old when he died. Mother said he was twice as large as she when he died of age.” Chen tugged out his wakizashi, tentatively poking at the length of bone. “Steel can’t scratch it.” San stated matter-of-factly. “The bones of mature gods never break, not even if they’re shot. Tsume was grazed by a bullet once, but it bounced off his ribs.”

            “Wow. He can count his lucky ribbons.” He handed the spear back, and San tossed him the dagger with a smile.

            “Lucky ribbons?”

            Chen caught it smoothly, scraping the edge of his thumb with the blade. “Razor sharp. Not a _single_ nick. Impressive.” He handed it back. “Ribbons. In my home village, the girls wear ribbons of specific colors in their hair. If they liked a boy, and he had a close call while hunting or working, they would give him their ribbon as a symbol of his good luck.” San’s eyes were wide, listening intently. Chen laughed, sheathing his wakizashi. “I was a dumb kid. Needless to say, I had a lot of lucky ribbons.”

            San laughed, a light, honest sound. She and Ashitaka were so similar. Both so honest, and innocent in different ways. But each so _strong_. He had seen the look in her eyes when she had sworn that oath, the light of the fire reflecting her ferocity, the blood on her family’s fang gleaming in her determination. They would each give their lives for the other.

            That was the kind of love Chen had dreamed of. Time would tell if he was destined to get it.

            He drew his katana, the steel flaring in the dawnlight. She jumped back, spear raised wardingly. Chen grinned. “Let’s see how you fight, Lady San.”


	10. Mononoke Ch.10

Hitori watched her siblings fight, Chen’s blades weaving in flashing patterns as San dodged and struck relentlessly in return. She smiled as only a wolf could, watching them proudly. It didn’t matter they were both human, now she had a brother _and_ a sister! She kept her excitement down, however, as her wolf-cousins emerged from the trees to stand behind her. She turned reluctantly and faced them. They were still massive in her eyes, half of her body would easily fit in either of their mouths, but she did not fear them.

            Tsume was serious, as he always was, but Kiba was surprisingly subdued as well, his gray eyes meeting her own blue. “Are you ready to be Given voice, little one?” Kiba said, tone solemn and slightly stiff. This was obviously their first time, Hitori thought, but she gave them credit anyway. She probably would have burst out laughing first thing she left the shadow of the trees. But she behaved, and replied in the only way she remembered. Remembering was hard sometimes.

            _I am ready, strong ones._

They nodded, turned, and loped easily through the trees. She ran after them indignantly, short legs scampering to make up for their leaping bounds, but she would not ask them to slow down. That was not the way of wolves. She had to keep up, or be left behind.

            But they knew her, and kept a pace she could follow, for which she was grateful. They soon left the light of the dawn behind, journeying farther into the heart of the forest on this side of the mountains. Soon they began to pass kodama, the small white tree spirits watching them pass with hardly a rattle of their skull-like heads. If she had time, Hitori would have chased them. They were good at chasing.

            Just when Hitori started having second thoughts about asking to slow down, they arrived at a spring of water, a small waterfall feeding it from higher up the cliffs. The twin white wolves rounded the edge of the small lake, forcing her to follow. She was panting with exertion and moved to drink from the clear water.

            “Not yet, small one.” Kiba stated, no room for argument in his voice, and she sighed but obeyed, resting on her hind legs in the image of patience. Tsume padded his way over to her, hard eyes inspecting every inch of her. This was the first time she had been alone with her cousins for more than a few minutes, and she could sense their careful curiosity.

            “Where are you from?”

            _My family lived in the mountains to the North. I was born in the foothills. Well, before we were pushed to the upper slopes, obviously._

 _“_ What happened? How are you here?” Kiba asked, joining his brother.

            She shook involuntarily, shudders wracking her small dark body. Fire. Many humans with stick-fangs. Hitori avoided their eyes. _I cannot remember much. I was very small then._

Kiba lay down next to her, so that they were eye-level. “Try, small one. You are the only other of our kind we have ever met, and we are over 200 years old.”

            Tsume rounded her. “We must know.”

            She nodded, blue eyes darting as she tried to form nightmares into words. _Humans. They came, hunting us. Not the ones we knew lived in the mountains, they respected us and stayed away. These were strong. They killed my brother, and took my father. He was taken…_ Memories threatened to break up her words. Kiba gently nudged the side of her head, a kind gesture. She took a deep breath. _He was taken trying to save me. He was wounded by the guns, and… and…_ The pain in her heart began to shift. To something different. Something hard. Her blue eyes narrowed.

 _He is a demon now._ The words came softly, and stronger than she expected. What was this feeling in her? She shoved her contemplation away. Whatever it was, it was helping her speak. The brothers looked to each other, expressions unreadable.

            “I am sorry, small one.”

            “Our mother was also taken by the humans. We understand.” She nodded. Blue boy, Ashitaka, had told her that already.

            _I was taken to their large stone town. Bigger than Iron village. I was there for a week, until I saw Ashitaka’s almost-sister. And then Chen saved me._

Her cousins continued to look at her, until Tsume finally spoke. “Your human is better than most.” The words were grudging, but they came out, and Hitori smiled.

            _Yours isn’t half bad, either._

            Tsume’s eyes widened, and Kiba laughed, his long tail wagging once. “Yes, San is her own kind of human.” Kiba conceded, smile remaining.

            Tsume continued looking forward ahead, eyes narrowed. “She has fallen in love with that boy like a lovesick cub. She is not-“ He shook his massive head, and the two white wolves rose. “No matter. How many are in your family?”

 _If… if they are all alive, then there is my mother and her brother, grandfather, my sister, two cousins, and the tribe of my uncle on the other side of the mountains._ She counted them all in her head, making sure she got everybody, then she noticed just how big Tsume and Kiba’s eyes were. They exchanged a glance.

            _What is it?_ She asked curiously.

            Kiba looked to her, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.“ We thought… we thought we were the only wolves left. Your family brings us great comfort. Follow, little one.” They moved away, slower now, and Hitori could easily keep up. The walked for several minutes before Tsume spoke again.

            “ _What_ are you?” Tsume asked her suddenly, not bothering to look behind him. Hitori was confused for a moment, before catching the voice-tone. The tone of teaching.

            _I am a wolf, a guardian Spirit of the Forest._ Kiba nodded, but Tsume continued forward, the winding trunks of trees moving around them like columns of humans when they marched.

            “Yes, but that is not all. We were not always guardians.”

            “Once, there was nothing to guard against.” Kiba added. “Just the forest, the plains, and the mountains, in harmony.”

            _Before the humans?_ Hitori asked, ears perking in curiosity. She had been too young to understand talk like this when mother had told them stories under the moon.

            “No, the humans were there. I will return to that. Why can we speak and think like humans? Why are we not like the small wolves of the South?”

            _Because… we are guardians?_ Hitori replied hesitantly. They were moving uphill now, the ground becoming stonier by the minute.

            “Yes, but there is more. We are granted voice, size, strength, and the languages of the earth by the power of life itself.”

            _Oh, I know languages! Mother taught us about them._ Tsume nodded and continued.

 _“_ And when our connection to life is broken, by hate or fear, or by great harm, the life we once had is consumed by death. We lose what we were, and become as demons.”

            Hitori nodded, somber once again. So that meant her father was dead. That gave her comfort.

            “We are guardians, yes. But of all life. And now it is your turn, to gain your voice. What languages do you know?”

            She took a deep breath. _The trees. The soil. I was still learning wind when… when it happened. I was going to be Given Boar, next. Oh! And the moon, of course.”_ She added hastily. She wouldn’t be a true wolf without that particular language. They reached the top of the ridge, looking out over the bright morning, the sun finally rising above the hills.

            “That is good. You are hoping to learn the language of humans?” Hitori nodded, and almost yipped her excitement. Luckily she held her tongue just in time. Tsume suddenly seemed… hesitant? “The language of humans is… not one you can learn.” Hitori’s eyes widened in shock. How was she going to talk to Chen and San and Ashitaka?! Sure, she could _think_ at them, but she wanted to talk! Then Tsume turned to her. “It is one we Give you.”

            Hitori cocked her head. _Wait, I thought that Given languages were only for…_

 _“_ The Spirits of the Forest, yes. You would have been taught that soon enough, by your own family. We had always just accepted that that was the way it was and always had been.” Kiba stated, meeting her eyes. “But the last week of her life, Mother taught us new things. And before we Give you voice, we will tell you.”

            “The Spirits of the Forest were not alone, in the beginning of the world.” Tsume pronounced solemnly, looking to the edge of the valley, at the mountain pass. Hitori followed his eyes. There was the human group, just beginning to prepare for its eastward journey. Understanding came, and she turned to Tsume sharply.

            _The humans were there as well?_

“They were not known as humans, then.” Tsume answered. Hitori shook her head, making sure her ears were working right.

            Kiba smiled wryly. “Yes, little one, they were there.” Hitori’s breath escaped in a gasp, now, and she scrambled to the highest rock at the top of the ridge, looking again at the fires and the wheel-movers and the cloth houses, the light of the sun over the mountains moving across the land until the camp was lit with the golden glow of morning. These humans, that had saved her life, killed her family, and became her family once again had been born with the ancient Spirits?

            “Mother had suspected something. That is why she spared our sister, all those moons ago. So she could see San, and through her, all humans, with eyes cleared of our ages-old opposition.”

            “We did not believe her when she told us at first.” Kiba interrupted, insistent.

            Tsume met Hitori’s eyes, gold meeting blue, and continued. “And then San grew. She learned the languages, ran with us, and became as much a wolf as she could. But she was not a wolf, no matter how she tried. But because of her love for us, she became something else. And Mother learned what it was that the humans had forgotten.”

            Hitori’s mind was running as fast as it could, trying to understand what her cousins were telling her. Her sharp eyes picked out Ashitaka, a dot of blue next to the red mass of Yakul. She saw Eboshi, finger pointed imperiously, directing the stowing of her cloth-house. She turned and saw her brother and sister, sparring still, spinning and twirling in a dance of blades. But now she _saw_ them. It all fell into place just as Tsume intoned the very thoughts that came to her mind, flashing like the sun off the surface of a clear lake.

            “Humans have forgotten what they are. For they are gods as well.”

……..

            Ashitaka slid the ringblade out of its sheath slowly. It was simple, a straight single-edged blade with a ring of iron on the end as a counterbalance. He had never expected to kill with it. He examined the edge, and pulled out his whetstone. He hadn’t sharpened this blade since before he had left his people. As he ran the stone down the steel edge, fire reflecting down its length, he realized that he had left barely more than three months ago. It felt like a lifetime. The sliding of the stone on metal normally would have soothed him, but now… It only reminded him of the path ahead. He would have to fight and kill once again.

            He stopped the repetitious movement to shiver. The mountain air was chilly, but refreshing. It reminded him of home.

            Voices reached his ears. Was that… San? He turned to look, and to his surprise he saw Toki and San walking together. From what Ashitaka could see in the dim evening light, San’s expression was guarded but not hostile, and Toki seemed to be fervent in whatever she was saying. His ears strained to hear what was being said before he stopped himself. It was not his business, and eavesdropping was not something friends did. So he continued sharpening his blade, hoping that she would come. She had left immediately following the second planning session, again leaving Ashitaka before he could get a chance to talk to her.

            Pushing his anxiety aside, he though on what Chen had brought to the table that night. Two hundred samurai, all loyal to Chen as a commander and as a friend, waiting on his return to Duan-Zen. Only his five lieutenants knew of Kaya, and Chen trusted them to keep the secret close. Ashitaka did not know what to make of that, so he had decided to wait and meet these men for himself.

            But they were not Ashitaka’s greatest concern. He forced himself to consider his greatest fear, hand pausing on the blade, as his calm expression broke against his will. What if Kaya… had broken? What if, even now, the armies of the Empire marched on the valleys of his people? What if Kaya was already dead?

            He grunted and shook his head, making himself think clearly. If that was what had happened, then he could nothing about it. It would be what it would be. He was doing his part, and that was enough. But he knew that those haunting thoughts would never entirely leave him.

            “Hey.” He almost jumped as San sat beside him, startling him out of his dark thoughts. He summoned a smile, and she smiled in return. Her mask was perched on her head, and she wrapped the fur cloak around her against the cold. She looked about to say something more, but leaned to meet his eyes fully. “Are you all right?” She asked carefully.

            “Yes.” He stated with a forced smile, placing the whetstone in his pocket and sheathing the ringblade. “Yeah, I’m just… nervous.”

            “About Eboshi’s lessons?”

            He paused. _That_ wouldn’t be a lie. “Yes. But I’ll be fine. What about you, you have your first lesson tomorrow as well, correct?”

            She looked down. “Yes. I… do not want to.” She looked up again hastily and added. “But I will.”

            Ashitaka smiled again. He didn’t have to force it this time. “I know you will.” He reached out and took her hand carefully, unwrapping her fingers to look at the wound. San’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t object. Her hands were small, but rough. She had unbound the wrap, but it was healing nicely. He looked back up at her, meeting her eyes. “And I’m grateful for that.”

            Curiously, she avoided his gaze and glanced quickly between him and the warming fire. He squinted suddenly and leaned to see what hung on her back. “Where did you get that?” He queried, and she realized what he was referring to with a start. She drew her hand back and swung the katana‘s belt over her shoulder smoothly, eyes wide with excitement.

            “Chen gave it to me! He said he would teach me, if I wanted.” She drew the blade from its dark scabbard and handed it to him. “I… I like it. I didn’t think I would, but it has really good balance.” He took it and held it up to the light. The blade was almost as dark as the scabbard, slate-gray steel refusing to reflect the light of the fire, and a growling wolf’s head engraving decorated the blade near the hilt. Ashitaka stood and swung it experimentally. He didn’t really care for katanas, they were _made_ to kill, but he agreed with San. It was light, with wonderful balance. He looked anywhere on the blade or tsuba for a maker’s mark. There was none.

            He handed it back to her, sitting again. “It is a fine blade, he was very generous.”

            “Oh, it’s not his. I think he stole it from Eboshi. That woman has more than enough blades to herself.” They sat for a second, the crackling fire filling silence, and Ashitaka wondered how to reply to that. But San spoke up before he could think of something. “But I still like your blade more. What did you call it?”

            “A ringblade. All Emishi carry one when outside the villages.”

            She nodded, considering. “I really liked carrying it around for those few days. It was very useful.”

            “It was made to be that way. The Emishi are peaceful people, we’ve had hundreds of years to turn our weapons into tools. When the demon attacked our village, it was the first time in three hundred years we had risen in arms.” She sheathed the katana and looked to him curiously, the orange light flickering in her blue eyes.

            “You were worrying about them, weren’t you.” She stated, expression softening. “About Kaya.” He looked to her, surprised.

            “How did you know?” He asked quietly.

            She moved closer to him on the log that served as a bench. “You’re always so serious, Ashitaka. That darkness, sadness, _always_ in your eyes. It’s impossible not to know!” She looked down suddenly. “I’ve never seen you without it. I wish… I almost wish I had known you before all this. When you were happy.”

            Ashitaka didn’t know how to reply. She was right, there had only been one time when she had seen him when he had been at peace, on that green hill two months ago. And now his pain was darkening her. He said the first thing that came to his mind. “ _You_ make me happy, San.”

            “No, I don’t.” She said, rising abruptly. She made to walk past the fire, Ashitaka fearing for a horrified moment that she would stride away. But she rounded the fire, pacing. “I just make things worse. You’re worried, scared for me, even now. That I won’t be able to learn how to be human, that I won’t survive in the court.” She stopped to glare at him, folding her arms. “I even promised, but you still fear!”

            “San, no I-“ 

            “Ashitaka, be quiet. I’m thinking like a human, don’t mess with me.” He shut his mouth hurriedly. She brought a hand under her chin, hanging her head on it while her eyes narrowed in concentration. She started pacing again, muttering to herself. He had _never_ seen her like this before. San always just did what she thought was right in the moment, but here she was, planning... something. He jolted in surprise as she suddenly stopped her pacing to sit right next to him, leaning forward intently. He made to scoot away, but there was no bench left. Her face was very close to his, determined eyes less than a handspan away from his. “Right now, I’m a student. I’m learning to swing a sword, to sing, to be a human, -“ His eyes went wide and he moved to ask a question, but her eyes narrowed so quickly he almost fell off the log. “And I’m not going to be taught any more. I’m going to _teach_.” She stated fiercely.

            Then she tilted her head, suddenly annoyed. “Wait, learning in human culture is voluntary, right?” He nodded, not wanting to anger her and definitely not wanting to catch himself from falling on his rear. San released an exasperated sigh and stood again.

            His position now secure, Ashitaka looked at her in confusion. She put her head in her hands and took a deep breath, then looked to him. Her eyes were large, and she seemed nervous. Maybe the process of learning was different among wolves? Then she spoke, and her tone had completely changed, imploring and sincere. “Do you want to learn something that can give you peace, Ashitaka?”

            He smiled, and nodded. _Your beauty gives me peace_. He couldn’t have stopped the thought even if he wanted to, but he still couldn’t say it. It didn’t seem the right time anyway. “If it means I get to be with you, I would learn anything.”

            She blushed furiously but continued, determined, voice returning to its former forceful tones. She pointed at him. “I’m going to teach you languages. To hear the song of the wind, the voices of the trees, and the echoes of the moon. They will teach you the meaning of peace, and then-“ Her voice broke. Her outstretched hand wavered, and she turned away, hair covering her eyes. “Then will you be happy?” She whispered.

            He stood, suddenly, and drew her close. She went stiff for a moment, then melted against him. Her head was a comforting weight on his shoulder. “San, I am happy now.” She drew a shuddering breath, and he tilted her head back gently, looking into her eyes. “I’m with you. I don’t care what pain or confusion is in my heart, because _you’re_ _here_.”

            “And when I’m gone?” She mumbled, gently unfolding herself from his arms. But she took his hand in hers, and didn’t let go.

            “Then the memory of you will have to do.” He smiled, trying to convey all of his love in one expression. “And the words of the earth, that you taught, they will comfort me.” They sat together, the warmth of her hand spreading through him. She finally looked to him, her mouth holding just the barest glimpse of a smile. She looked up, at the moon shining above them.

            “Your first lesson.” She began, voice gaining strength with every word. “The languages of the earth can only be heard-“ His gaze joined hers, looking to the moon and the lights of a thousand stars, and he lost himself in the sound of her voice.

            Long after she let go of his hand, the warmth remained.


	11. Mononoke 11

San took a deep breath. She unbelted the dagger from her side and placed it by the tent flap, under Ganzo’s watchful eyes. There. She was unarmed. Except for Ashitaka’s dagger. But that didn’t really count, did it? It couldn’t like, kill anything, not easily. Ok, maybe if she got the throat, or the eyes… At least the spinal cord…

            “You goin’ in, or what?” Ituse demanded, glaring around the corner of the tent. San growled, hackles rising. Her oathwound twinged. No. She had promised. She would do no harm. San took another deep breath, clenched her teeth, and pushed the tent flap aside.

            San walked into Lady Eboshi’s tent, head held high. She would _not_ be cowed before this woman. There she sat, elegantly arrayed in the center of her tent like the spider at the center of her colorful cloth web. She wore her usual array of strange human clothes, her hair arranged meticulously. How did the woman sleep, with that on top of her head?

            “Ah, Mononoke. I was beginning to worry.”

            “I gave my word.” San whispered as she sat gingerly, not trusting herself with any more volume.

            “Oh, I was not worried about whether or not you would come.” Eboshi held her hand up, the bandage still wrapping her own oathwound. “Just about how late you would be. Every minute counts, costing Ashitaka’s friend that much more pain.”

            “Don’t you speak-“ San snapped her mouth shut, and closed her eyes, furiously controlling her expression. Eboshi eyed her closely, that _infuriating_ smile on her face. Every _word_ that woman spoke… She opened her eyes and calmed as she caught hold of that line of thought. How did Eboshi do that? Set her off so easily? It was in her words, but somehow _more_ than that. _She_ was the one reacting, after all.

            San sighed. She had to start this off right, or else every moment would be utter torture. Or at least, more than it had to be. “My name is San. You may use it. What is your name, that I may know you truthfully?”

            Eboshi chuckled throatily, hand rising to her mouth in amusement. “My, so forward. What makes you think I would give to you what I withhold from my closest friends? Princess, I have not a name to give you. And is not your own title one of respect? Mononoke, Princess of the Vengeful Spirits. You are Queen now, I would suppose.”

            San’s hand unconsciously reached to where her dagger would have hung. She forced herself to clench it into a fist and place it into her lap, eyes burning a hole in the rug. _You are not a wolf. Think. And then speak._ She ground out, “Mononoke is the name _you_ gave me. San is the name my mother gave me. I do not care which you use.”

            Eboshi paused. “Forgive me… San. I did not mean to refer to your mother’s death in jest.” San looked up challengingly, but to her surprise the woman’s smile was gone, and her eyes were lowered contritely. San did not reply, however, and Eboshi soon realized that she would not.

            “Before we begin these lessons in earnest, I have a pair of people to introduce to you.” Eboshi stood gracefully, and San looked around once more, eyes darting. Introduce… to her? But they were alone. “The first is Reoshu Moki, a simple girl.” Eboshi took two frames of wood from a strange stand, and brought them back to where San sat in confusion. “She serves Lady Eboshi, and will accompany the Lady and Kage, her Heir, to the Emperor’s palace.” Eboshi sat, placing the frames on the ground, and handed the first to San. She took it and flipped it over, eyeing Eboshi suspiciously, then looked down at the piece of rice paper stretched in the frame.

            It was _her_. San let out a small gasp as she looked at the face painted on the paper, every feature familiar and yet alien to her. The blue eyes, short hair, it was all there, every stroke of the brush capturing the image that San had only seen in blades and the clear surfaces of water. She reached hesitantly with one hand, touching her own face as if to make sure it hadn’t changed.

            But Reoshu Moki was different. There was no paint on her face, the headband was gone, and there was a small amount of makeup under her eyes and on the slight smile of her lips. But the eyes, they were downcast, submissive… _servile_.

            “Reoshu will have minimal interaction with the nobility, providing to the needs of her Lord and Lady. She will guard the pair against hidden threats, and may act as a messenger between the Lady and her Captains regarding changes of plans. Reoshu is kind, bright, and optimistic, anxious at her position but determined to prove herself.” San’s gaze shot up to meet Eboshi’s face. There was a pleasant smile there, but the eyes… they calculated. San understood her clever words now. This is who she could be. These were her choices, for who she would be taught to become.

            “And the second?” She demanded, meeting Eboshi’s gaze fearlessly. The smile grew.

            “The second is Saisana Rei’im.” She handed San the second frame, and San looked flipped it over carefully, thinking that she ready for anything. She wasn’t.

            “Crescent Princess of the Imnari people of the Southern Islands. She is the first envoy of her people in over several centuries to these lands, and she has secured the services of the Lady Eboshi and Kage to accompany and protect her on her journey to Duan-Zen.”

            San had to consciously take hold of the frame with both hands to keep it from tumbling to the ground. The beautiful being in the picture stared back at her, gaze radiating authority. It had gleaming white hair, held from her eyes with a golden circlet, a blade of beaten gold in the shape of a crescent moon pointing above her like a pair of elegant horns. The crown was matched by a pair of golden earrings with rubies shining from them, giving her an air of elegance and invincibility, and the crimson marks on her pale face were delicate, forming the outlined suggestions of sharp triangles beneath her cold blue eyes. Her lips were partially made in paint of the same red color, expressly showing no emotion but a determination to be respected.

            But her eyes. They were deep and wise, the eyes of a leader. They were not Eboshi’s eyes. They were more like… Ashitaka’s, but more experienced.

            “Saisana will accompany Eboshi and Kage to the Emperor’s palace, where the Lady will present her to the court. Saisana is noble, experienced, and wise, a leader among her people despite her age. She is curious to see the world of the people of the drylands, and is just as gracious as she is unshakeable.”

            San set the picture down numbly, and looked up at Eboshi. The smile was gone, replaced by… challenge. “Saisana is determined to learn of the culture of this new land, with little interest in politics or war. Her people live peacefully with nature, and she is saddened to see it so destroyed in this land.” Eboshi nodded, showing that she was done with the “introductions”.

            “Now, San, you must choose. Who will you become?”

            San set the picture down carefully, next to the first. Now she understood Ashitaka’s reluctance to become Kage, his hesitation to be who he was not. But he, like her, had a good reason to do so. And San would do whatever it took to see him safe.

            And in these two people, San could see her paths. The first, the easy path, where she could be close to Ashitaka, protecting him. She would be his and Eboshi’s servant. She looked into Reoshu’s eyes, at her abject meekness. Simplicity, and happiness.

            And the second. The path of royalty. San looked into the stunning beauty, the sheer _authority_ of Saisana. The hard path. San would have to learn much, to interact with the vipers she was trying to save Ashitaka from. Determination, and power.

            But which one was closer to San, daughter of Moro? How would _he_ look at her differently, when she was changed?

            “I want to meet Saisana.” San breathed, touching the painting. The eyes.

            “It will be difficult. You will have to obey all of my instruction with exact obedience, if you wish to be so human.”

            “Whatever it takes.” San said, looking back up at Eboshi. Was that pride in the woman’s eyes?

            “Very well. I will help you become Saisana, the Crescent Princess.” Eboshi stood once again, gaze hard and composed. “I must make something clear, San. In this, I cannot teach you how to be human.” San’s chin lifted, waiting for words. “I will merely teach you how to act like one. Princess, you already walk, talk, you think.” Eboshi continued. “You even… _love_ like a human.” She looked down, eyes narrowing. “You have Ashitaka, Chen, and the others to help you in that area. Toki and Chen are teaching you music. It has been years since I have played the samisen, so again, I am useless.”  Then she turned to meet San’s eyes, gaze firm, mouth set in a hard line. “You will learn to be a human on your own.”

            San met her gaze, understanding. It seemed humanity was like the languages. You could teach all you wanted, but if the one you taught refused to listen… they would never hear. Her humanity would have to come from within.

            “But there is one thing I can teach you.” Eboshi said slowly, voice lowering. “And that is how to be a woman.” San’s ears perked at that, looking sharply at Eboshi, who turned away, her dark eyes pieces of flint that seemed to want to cut whatever she looked at. “How to not be caught in the words of men.” She raised her hand and undid a knot about her empty shoulder, her wide sleeve falling back to expose her only arm. San’s eyes widened as Eboshi turned her exposed back to her. There, crossing Eboshi’s upper arm and shoulder like stitching, were white scars. Dozens of them.

            “I will teach you what I have taught my girls. To show them you are not an object.” Eboshi’s voice was as hard as San had ever heard it, and San looked back up to her, astonished. Eboshi did not bother to draw the sleeve back, instead let the one-armed garment fall around her waist, leaving her in a black undergarment. “I will teach you to know the intents of men’s hearts, to know the way they work, how women can make them feel. Is that something you want to learn?” San nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly. She _did_ want to learn. It seemed like Lady Eboshi knew some useful things after all.

            “Good. Now rise, your lessons start immediately. We only have ten days before we reach the capitol, barring unexpected events, and time is of the essence. Now, to teach you how to stand.”   


	12. Mononoke Ch.12

Chen laughed as San looked into the small hand mirror with a befuddled expression. “I must say, milady, you do look the part.”

            “But did she have to go so far?” San demanded, tracing the areas under her eyes where her triangles of paint should have been. “I feel… _exposed_ without my marks!”

            Hitori spoke up. “San! Look down here, lemme see.” San conceded and let her sister see her new face, and Chen could see right through her tight lips and wide eyes to the horror beneath. Eboshi had washed every inch of the red paint off San’s face for their excursion today, as one of the princess’s first tests in humanity.

            “Hmm. I guess Chen’s right, you do look like a human now.” Hitori finally agreed.

            “Are you saying San didn’t look like one before?” Chen said as he slid his katana back in its sheath. He was really hoping not to use it today.

            Hitori swung her head at him with an annoyed expression. “Well, she did, but then she was more… wolfy.” Chen had to agree. Eboshi had turned the Princess Mononoke into a regular-looking village girl, complete with yukata, circular straw hat, and a pair of _geta_. But Chen knew what the bulge in the left side of her folded garment was. San wasn’t going in unarmed.

            “Chen, there you are! I finished loading the katana, where did you want the naginata?” Ashitaka ran up to the trio, dressed in his nondescript blue tunic, looking to Chen expectantly. Then he saw San. Chen laughed as he did a double take, and San reddened and pulled her hat over her face.

            “Don’t look, Ashitaka! I’m not… _normal_!” A grin spread on Ashitaka’s face, and he chuckled as he bent down, trying to catch her eyes. “NO!” She burst vehemently, spinning around, almost stumbling on her _geta_ and tripping on Hitori at the same time.

            Ashitaka reached out and steadied her with a laugh. “San, its ok, you look good!”

            She half-heartedly tried to shy away, but Ashitaka pulled up the brim of her hat slowly, meeting her bashful gaze. “Liar.” She accused softly.

            He leaned in and whispered something that Chen didn’t catch, but it caused San to suddenly relax. She reached into a fold in her yukata, and pulled out a small wooden container, opening it to reveal a reserve of red paint and a small brush. “Here, will you let me try?” Ashitaka queried, and she reluctantly handed him the paint, and he took the brush in hand.

            Chen chuckled as he slid off the rock where he had perched, armor clinking as his weight settled into the soft ground. Hitori padded over to him, that wolfish smile on her face that he knew so well. She was now just past his knee in height, having grown much over the past week. Her voice, when it had come, had surprised him, but she was still herself. Maybe a little more mature, probably because she had been spending more time with her cousins.

            “They should just do that funny mouth thing. Ya’ know, like licking, but really not? They obviously like each other enough.” She concluded with a nod, and Chen bent over as laughter burst from him, slapping his knee armor once with a clang. _Then again, as I should know, maturity is_ entirely _relative._

            “Hitori, you should know that some words are meant to stay in that toothy mouth of yours.

            “Made _you_ laugh, didn’t it?” She stated matter-of-factly, and Chen shook his head, placing his kabuto over his blonde hair. Hitori continued. “Hey, I’m just happy my sister’s happy. Since she’s been taking lessons from the Lady…” She looked up at Chen. “She’s… different.”

            “She’ll be fine. C’mon, you two lovebirds, let’s head out before the Lady leaves us behind!” He shouted to Ashitaka and San, the latter inspecting the small red triangle on her forehead, the former holding the brush anxiously. They jumped at his words, and followed him out of the small clearing where San had taken shelter from the curious looks of the rest of the company. “I didn’t know you were a painter, Ashitaka.” Chen stated flippantly as Ashitaka handed the small container back to San, where it promptly disappeared.

            “I dabbled a bit when I was young. The training for Emishi princedom is… quite extensive.” He replied, concentrating on helping San not tumble over.

            “These... are _not_ … shoes!” She muttered to herself, looking at her feet furiously, having to take smaller steps to maintain balance. But she reached up to touch the new mark on her face, and her hat’s brim didn’t quite hide her smile.

            “Oi! Ashitaka! I put the naginata on Yakul’s back, he didn’t seem to mind, but what do you think?” Kohroku shouted as they approached, and Ashitaka laughed at the sight of Yakul covered in the sheathed polearms.

            “If he doesn’t mind, then I don’t!” Further up the line, Eboshi called for San. Eboshi had told Chen that she wasn’t ready for the “moon princess” act yet, this was just an opportunity for her to get some training in humanity in general. Village girl San sighed heavily and said goodbye to Ashitaka, waved to Chen and tried her best to stride away confidently.

            Chen shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ashitaka, but Yakul’s just too recognizable to bring into town. The empire has spies everywhere and if Kaya had a mount like him, well let’s just say that we wouldn’t get far before they send a legion to wipe us up.”

            Ashitaka’s face fell, but he nodded. “You’re right, of course.”

            “Aw, really? I got to take them all off?” Kohroku stated, but Ashitaka waved his complaint aside.

            “We’ll get it, Kohroku. Thanks for the help, though.”

            Kohroku scratched his neck with a shrug, a sneaky smile spreading. “I mean, I kinda _had_ to do it, the good master Ashitaka being… ahem, distracted.” He looked over his shoulder with a wide smile at the retreating San. “If she wasn’t with you, Ashitaka, I wouldn’t’ve guessed it was Mononoke! Ya’ know, I can kinda see why you like her, she’s not too bad when you take the wolf off.”

            Hitori strode up to him, blue eyes trying their best to look cold and hard. “And humans aren’t too bad when you take the skin off…” She started menacingly, and Kohroku went white as a kodama.

            “Um, I didn’t mean it like that, Miss Hitori-“

            Chen took a step and placed a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, she’s just jealous because she’s not coming.”

            Hitori spun on Chen, eyes wide. “Wait, what-?“ , and Kohroku took the opportunity to escape the small wolf’s metaphorical jaws, jogging back to the other ox drivers.

            The samurai narrowed his gaze. “If poor Yakul is recognizable, what do you think common folk would do if they saw a small, swirly-coated black wolf running around?” She tried to speak and Chen overruled her. “And, no ego-lifting intended, you’re probably ten times prettier than any dog they got in that village, so no ‘blending in’. You’re staying behind, young lady, and that’s the last word.” Her eyes wend wide as she tried to consider the confusing mix of compliment and denial, finally settling for a mutter-filled silence, stalking away into the trees. “I didn’t hear you!” Chen called after her.

            “Yes, brother, I’ll stay!” She called back, only the faintest hint of a growl in her words. Chen chuckled and moved to help Ashitaka unload the puzzled Yakul.

            “I take it you have younger siblings?” Ashtitaka asked, hefting a bundle of the bladed staves on his shoulder.

            “Three, all sisters. I love em’ but oh, could they be stubborn. An older brother, too, but he took the responsible career path.” Chen grunted as the weight of the assembled naginata added to the weight of his armor.

            “Which was…?”

            “Stonecutting. Lots of nice rock up there in the mountains, inherited the trade from my father. Here, let’s find an ox before I drop these on a shorter person’s head.”


	13. Chapter 13

 

Ganzo was supremely uncomfortable, and not at all happy. He wasn't known for being happy, he knew this, but now he had a reason. Captain of the Lady Eboshi's guard, and here he was not even guarding her! He pushed back a growl, eyeing the small girl next to him with unease. He would follow the Lady's every order because he loved her, but this was pushing that devotion a little far. Now he was instead guarding the threat he had guarded the Lady against for years!

Mononoke looked about as uncomfortable as he did, silent save the occasional muttered curse as she lost her balance on the platformed shoes. Toki didn't seem to mind her presence, the woman walking on the other side of Mononoke, rifle held casually as the trio made their way to the goldworker's forge. Ganzo had heard the woman was teaching Mononoke how to sing -for who knew what reason- and now the three of them had a special assignment. Well, Mononoke did. Ganzo was just there for show.

He wore a full set of samurai armor, the same he had worn all those years ago when he had found the Lady, and while it had gotten a little tighter around the belly, he still felt as though honor followed him while he wore it. It hadn't always been so.

Ganzo made himself focus, studying the small crowd in the south market as it approached. Those days were past, his honor had been returned to him, and he would do whatever she ordered him to do. Even if it meant guarding a wolf.

"Why is there more than one market?" Mononoke asked Toki softly, expression not visible behind her sugegasa. She was smaller than Ganzo had remembered.

"This one is the place where the more specialty things are sold. The food market's to the east, where my husband's heading, and Ashitaka and Chen are going to the north, which is…?"

"The weapons market?" Mononoke queried.

"Close," Toki chuckled. "It basically is. No, it's where all the blacksmiths are at. We're lucky this village even has a goldsmith." Mononoke nodded, clutching the hefty coin bags close. Why Eboshi had let her carry the cash, Ganzo had no idea. He just had to guard it. His hand settled around the hilt of his nodachi, hanging loosely from his shoulder. He knew this village, the people of Irontown had come here often to buy food with their iron, but that didn't make the shifty characters any less suspicious.

The goldsmith came into view, his stand characterized by a lack of customers, a contingent of armed guards, and a smug smile on the merchant's face. Ganzo didn't need to see the gaudy necklaces and proudly displayed signs to recognize arrogance. This merchant knew the common people couldn't afford him, but he also knew he was the only gold dealer for dozens of miles around. And he made quite sure to remind those that could afford him of that fact. Ganzo detested the man.

"Greetings!" He called, upon making sure that they were, in fact, heading towards him. The guard's eyes watched them carefully, and Ganzo returned their glares. They weren't the prettiest samurai he had ever seen, but between them they had enough weaponry to outfit an entire squad. "You must be with the Lady Eboshi." The merchant stated with a chuckle, inspecting the rifle over Toki's shoulder appreciatively. "She's got her girls some new toys, has she?"

"Funny, I thought they were the toys." One of the guards muttered, and they broke into rough guffaws. Ganzo's eyes narrowed, but Toki spoke first.

"Yep, new toys." Toki declared coldly, twirling the rifle around her shoulder expertly. "And when it's done with you, you'll have an extra hole in your face to laugh with. But that's if you still have a face." Their laughter stopped and hands went to hilts as the barrel of the rifle swung towards them slowly.

The merchant waved dismissively. "Now, now, let's not get excited, I assume you're here for business, milday? Does Eboshi need more gold bars for… insurance purposes?"

Toki nudged Mononoke, who stepped forward slowly. Ganzo knew the basics of this plan, it was to train Mononoke to look human under pressure, and he would be ready for anything. Ganzo saw the guards' eyes follow her as she moved to the stall's dealing counter. Her face would be hidden under her sugegasa, but Ganzo knew full well they were not looking at her face. His hand didn't leave the hilt of his nodachi.

"Are you a master of your craft?" Mononoke asked suddenly, and the merchant seemed taken aback.

"Of course, young lady! Why, all these things you see-"

"The Lady wants you to make this." Mononoke interrupted, pulling from her robe a folded piece of rice paper, handing it to the merchant. He took it hesitantly. He unfolded it, revealing a diagram for a circlet of gold crowned with a crescent moon. Thanks to the Lady, Ganzo could read the inscribed words.

The gold trader's eyes widened. "This… this is a masterwork."

"And you are a master, as you said. The Lady wants it completed and in her possession before noontime." His mouth opened but before his protestations could emerge, Mononoke silenced him by pulling strings of gold coins from the pouch, laying them on the counter with multitudes of clinking. His eyes bulged at the mound of shining coins all strung together, neat and orderly. "This should be enough metal to make the piece, and you may keep whatever remains."

"But, milady, it isn't that simple-"

"I've heard it is." She cut in, tone curt and commanding. Ganzo peered down at her incredulously. She almost sounded like… the Lady. Despite her stature, she seemed to tower over the stuttering, stout merchant. "Do not try to deceive me because I am young, hammer-swinger. This is the cost and to spare. I will await the finished product to return to my Lady." Mononoke turned slowly, hiding her new clumsiness, and strode to a clear area across the street where they could wait.

Toki smiled and shrugged at the gaping merchant. "Kids aren't what they used to be, are they?" She giggled slyly, hefted her rifle and followed Mononoke, Ganzo jogging after in stunned disbelief. She had just… pushed through him like his words didn't mean a thing! He glanced behind him, making sure the merchant was taking them seriously. A chuckle almost escaped Ganzo at the look of shock on the man's face, but soon he scooped up the money and ordered a guard to stow it away, and soon the sounds of forgework could be heard, and soon the pipe emerging from the heavy tent was smoking.

He shook his head, turning back to the women. That was not what he had expected. Honestly, he hadn't been quite sure what to expect. He watched the area carefully, thinking through his list of things that could have gone wrong. Mononoke hadn't killed anyone, Toki didn't mouth off to the guards too much, and he hadn't had to draw his nodachi yet. Well, it had actually worked. He didn't even have to-

His line of thought stumbled as something beautiful reached his ears. Singing. The voice was clear, strong, but soft all the same. It was like the wind, passing through the barrack's vents on a warm summer night… He shook his head, trying to clear it of useless thoughts and began to turn around, confused. It wasn't Toki, she had a lower voice. He blinked in surprise.

It was Mononoke. Her hat was off, showing her clean, almost-familiar face, with that tiny triangle of red replacing the war marks that had been there before. Her eyes were lowered, and her face was free of the wire-taught tension, raging fire, or cutting ice that Ganzo knew. He watched, breath catching in his throat as she sang. The words were not of a song he knew, perhaps it was one of those songs only the women taught each other. But why would Mononoke sing a human song? Didn't she have her own?

As if she knew he was watching, her eyes flicked to him, voice faltering. Toki, sitting on the log bench next to her, chided gently, and Ganzo looked away, shame rising from who-knew-where. Why should he feel bad? He had just been listening… and strangely enough, that was the truth.

It was strange, thinking of Mononoke as a human. She had been a monster as long as he could remember, plaguing him by always threatening the Lady with assassination, driving fear -something that other humans could no longer give him- into his heart. But he had refused to let fear stop him in his duty. And now they were at peace. It was rather strange. He continued to listen to her voice, the soft lilting calming him, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. Her voice reminded him of the early days, when the Lady had sang for them.

That voice had not been heard for years.

The singing stopped. "Oi, Gonzo!" Toli called, and suddenly the tension returned. He turned to her, not showing the disappointment on his face. "I'm going to head over to the Lady, let her know the plan worked. You think you can keep peace for a while?"

"Long as she doesn't start anything." He replied gruffly, gesturing to Mononoke, who only glared back at him.

"Can I come with you?" The girl asked, but Toki shook her head.

"The Lady told you to stay. I'll be back soon, though." San sighed, and Toki strode off, gun barrel swaying in time to her hips. Ganzo huffed and stood at attention, watching renewed. He heard Mononoke slide further down the bench, as far from him as possible. Good. Fine with him.

Minutes passed, and Ganzo sat as well, relieving the weight of the armor as much as he could. He risked a glance back at the wolf girl, to make sure she hadn't run away, and she caught his eyes narrowly. He growled and looked away again.

The sound of footsteps approaching reached his ears. Heavy ones. "So this is that little flower you told us about, Rotura?" A voice asked, and Ganzo spun, hand reaching for his sword. A trio of men, armed, but not samurai, were approaching Mononoke.

"Yep, that's the one. Put Durogo right in his place, she did."

"A pretty one, that's for sure." The halted in a semicircle around her, and she looked up at them warily. Her hat had returned to her head, hiding her expression from him.

"Go away." She stated brusquely.

The men laughed, the first exclaiming, "Right on both counts, it seems. Hey, little flower, you free tonight? I'm in need of a little company-"

"I said go away!" She shouted, not meeting their eyes, but Ganzo saw her hand creeping to where she had hidden her dagger. His eyes went wide and alarms went off. If she killed them, then the entire company's visit would be cut very short. She had done a fair job of looking human, but with this…

"Oh, it's ok, I like my flowers a little fiery." The man chuckled, sneer growing, coming closer to her. Her hand moved to the slip in her yukata, but the larger man's hand shot forward, taking her upper arm before she could fully draw the dagger, yanking her to her feet. Another moved in, grabbing her by her other arm and holding her still so she couldn't struggle as effectively. Ganzo almost got to his feet before realizing with a start that the men had no idea he was with her.

A thought made itself known. She was Mononoke. She had terrorized the people of Irontown for years, making his life a living hell as the captain of the guard. Ganzo remembered  _every time_  he had to tell families of the men; brothers, sons, and husbands, that had been killed by Mononoke's vengeful hand. The burned prayers, the stricken faces, the tears. He remembered all. He had lost friends to her and her family of beasts. He had almost lost Lady Eboshi. Mononoke deserved  _some_  justice, some punishment, surely?

She cried out in pain as the man twisted her arm away, forcing her closer to him. He ripped the hat from her head, a cruel smile flicking on his features.

That cry of pain reached into Ganzo, pulling him back to a time when he had been no more than a coward leading cowards. Until he had heard a similar cry of pain.

He stood, feeling the weight of the armor settle on his shoulders. He drew his nodachi slowly, deliberately, the rasp of metal on metal keening in the morning air. The trio of men looked to him, eyes widening. "Does the lady look like she's selling wares!?" He bellowed, voice echoing through the muddy streets. His voice lowered dangerously. "Take your hands off of her, before I remove them myself." Two drew their own weapons, both wakizashi. Ganzo brought the nodachi up with a great cutting whoosh of air, and settled into a two-handed stance, the great five-foot blade shining menacingly in the morning light. They looked to each other, fear finally showing in their eyes as they recognized the stance of a trained samurai. Mononoke broke free of the first man's grip, drawing her dagger, but retreated back instead of striking. Good, she was wise.

"Now leave." He growled, no room for argument in his tone, and the men slunk away. He watched them with hard eyes until they ran out of sight. Ganzo lowered the nodachi, and Mononoke looked to him, eyes still wary. He guided the massive sword back into its sheath slowly.

"I would have handled it." She stated roughly. He made no reply, and there was silence again between them.

"Why?" She demanded.

He looked to her, grim. "It is my duty." Ganzo sat down on the bench again, and she remained standing, staring at him. It made Ganzo uncomfortable, so he looked away from her, out at the bustling markets. Mononoke sat. She had not put the hat back on, and her back was to his. But now, she sat next to him.    

He wondered if she would sing again when Toki returned.

* * *

 


	14. Ch. 14

Ashitaka let the bundle of naginata down carefully, then collapsed against the stone wall, soaked in sweat. Chen thudded to the ground beside him after dropping his own bundle with a clatter, heaving breaths. The samurai chuckled breathlessly, his lacquered black armor clinking at the shaking of his shoulders, and he shoved Ashitaka playfully.

            “Now how’s _that…_ for strength training…” He huffed, and Ashitaka laughed giddily as blood pounded in his ears. They hadn’t been able to find an ox. The blacksmiths they had stumbled to were situated near the center of the village, ragged huts and wooden buildings lining muddy streets, and men, women, and children mingled freely.

 Eboshi passed elegantly, giving them a sidelong smile, followed closely by the bandaged Dayihata, who was lugging a sheathed assortment of paper blueprints. The head blacksmith called out a surprised greeting, but Ashitaka was too busy breathing to care about what the Lady replied. Ituse paused, adjusting the rifle on her shoulder, and cocked her head at them with a small smile. “Didn’t the soldiers volunteer to carry those, _Captain_ Chen?”

            “Never let a subordinate do what you can reasonably do yourself.” He huffed with a smile, and she shook her head wonderingly.

            “You should give Ganzo some how-to-be-a-good-Captain lessons.”

            “Or _you_ could, lady Captain.” Chen stated, adjusting his sword belt. “You actually know the man.”

            Ashitaka though about Ganzo’s group, and how the large man had been aghast at Eboshi’s command to escort San. She herself had been nervous at entering a town in broad daylight, which was a first for her. Hopefully everything was going all right… He shook his head, making himself stop worrying about San. That was the very thing that had made her upset at him. She would be fine.

            Ituse laughed. “Know him? The only friends that man has are his old guard and the Lady herself. Why she keeps him around, I’ve no idea,” Ituse stated with a shrug, and Chen shrugged in return.

            “Worth a try. Hey, Ashitaka, could you hand me that waterskin of yours?” Ashitaka looked around while Chen drank. This seemed a simple village, if a bit larger than most. Passers by gave the group curious looks, some cautious. They were far enough from the Empire to not have to worry about levies and taxes, but that left them exposed to the warlords harrying the Emperor’s borders. And by all rights, Eboshi was technically a warlord. Or lady.

They were normal people trying to live their lives in a harsh world, and yet Ashitaka envied them. To have the weight of responsibility lifted from his shoulders for one minute, to be like one of them… He shook himself, eyes narrowing. There was no use in thinking like that. Kaya was depending on him, and by extension his entire people. San, Chen, even Eboshi were also depending on him to some degree or another. The weight of duty would never be lifted, it seemed.

And he would do what he had to do.

He stood, stretching his aching muscles, and moved to lift the bundle of naginata once again.

“Kage, Captain Chen!” Eboshi called, and he looked to her in surprise, just in time recognizing his new name. “Let the soldiers carry them here, you’ve both done enough!” She gave him a small smile, and he nodded gratefully and let go of the leather straps with a barely-hidden relief. There were _some_ burdens that could be lightened, he supposed.

He sat in the shade of a small stand of trees and watched as the bundles of weapons and stacks of armor -scavenged from the remnants of Lord Asano’s army- were loaded near the great smelters and forges of the blacksmiths. Dayihata and Eboshi were pouring over sets of paper blueprints, directing the smiths to build who-knew-what. Ashitaka supposed he should be nervous about that, but he couldn’t summon the concern right now. Eboshi was helping him, training him. She deserved at least the benefit of the doubt, now.

Ashitaka smiled, watching Chen strike up a conversation with some of the village men. Initially cautious at his armor and size, they were soon laughing and talking like old friends. It was a great gift that man had. Without him, Ashitaka never would have known about Kaya, and Hitori would have been left to whatever fate the Shogun and Emperor planned for her.

A guilty thought made itself known before he could quench it. _But you would be happy._ He shook his head, sighing deeply, adjusting the bow over his shoulder. No matter the insinuating thoughts that condemned him, Ashitaka would not blame Chen. But just because the thoughts were accusing did not mean that they were false.

He sighed and unslung his bow, placing it in the grass next to him with the quiver of steel-headed arrows. Those had been provided by the Lady. He lay down on the grass with a sigh, half-expecting someone to call him over again. But nothing did, and the cool grass tickled his neck and he looked into the branches of the trees above him. Might as well practice. So he closed his eyes and listened.

The rustling leaves told of the conversations between the wind and trees, but San had only just started teaching him wind, so that’s what he listened for. The winds did not speak the same way as humanity did, obviously, but his ear could pick out the standard tones of slipping through trees, of swirling joy and freedom. There were undertones as well, he could hear those, but not understand them. They were not so carefree, he thought, trying to puzzle out their secrets…

“Whatcha doing?” A curious voice asked, and Ashitaka resisted the immediate urge to reach for his ringblade. Was he really that tense?

He didn’t open his eyes. “Listening.” Small footsteps approached carefully.

“Listening to what?” Ashitaka opened his eyes and smiled, looking towards the source of the voice. A young boy, probably no older than eight, was watching him with a mix of caution and curiosity. He was dressed in standard fare, rough clothes loosely wrapping him in lengths, but a blue ribbon was tied around his forehead.

“The wind.” Ashitaka replied. “A friend taught me to hear its words.” The boy’s eyes widened, and he looked at the bow on the ground skeptically.

“Are you a samurai?” He asked, and Ashitaka’s grin spread wider.

He sat up slowly, brushing grass off his blue coat. “Do I look like one?” He gestured at the ringblade and his distinctive lack of armor, and the boy regarded him again, eyes narrowing in thought. “What is your name?”

“I’m Gorou.” He stated proudly, sitting near him. “What’s your name? And if you’re not a samurai, what are you?”

“I’m Ashi-… I’m Kage.”

“Ashikage?”

Ashitaka hid a grimace. “Yeah, that’s close enough. I’m a warrior, but not a samurai.” Gorou looked at him skeptically.

“Wait, how can you be a warrior and not a samurai?” Ashitaka sighed, and reluctantly drew out his sword. Gorou shied back, but Ashitaka took it by the blade and offered the hilt to the small boy. He took it hesitantly, face slowly lighting with excitement.

“See? Not a katana.” Gorou hefted it with a grin, holding the ringblade gingerly, obviously surprised that someone trusted him to hold a weapon. The child was strong, handling the light blade with surprising grace.

“Why do you have such a funny sword? Where are you from?” Gorou asked.

“Somewhere far away. Do you see a lot of samurai around here?” Ashitaka asked, trying to steer the conversation away from himself. He hated lying.

“Well, there’s the ones that live in the village. I see them a lot, but they don’t like me. Think I’m misch… mist… mische-something. Make trouble.” He looked up at Ashitaka suddenly. “But I’m not troublesome!” He protested. “I just like seeing their swords, and their armor… but I get too close, sometimes.”

“Well, if you want to talk to a samurai, there’s one over there…” Ashitaka leaned closer and pointed to Chen, who was still engaged in conversation with several village men. “He wouldn’t mind talking to you, and he’s the best samurai I know.”

Gorou looked to Chen, but then his eyes landed back on the ringblade in his hand. “I’ve seen a lot of samurai, but never anybody like you, Ashikage. I mean, what kind of samurai listens to the wind?” Ashitaka chuckled and nodded in agreement. “If you’re not a samurai, how can you have honor?” Gorou continued, looking up at him, head tilted curiously. “You can’t be a ronin, they’re still samurai.”

“Honor doesn’t come from a katana, or any blade.” Ashitaka stated, holding out his hand for the ringblade, and Gorou handed it back reluctantly. “There are many samurai who have no honor.” Memories came back to Ashitaka, of the massacre. Where he had killed for the first time. And then he had ran, the fear of his own power shaking him to the core, abandoning those that needed help.

Gorou thought for a moment, then nodded emphatically. “Like those ones from Asano’s army. They tried to attack us the other week. Mom took us into the woods, but the men fought them off. Where does honor come from, then?” He asked, puzzled.

Ashitaka considered. “I wouldn’t know. Your definition of honor seems different than mine.”

Gorou looked down, disappointed, drawing his legs to his chest. “I thought you were going to say something wise.”

“Like, ‘honor comes from within…’ or something like that?” Ashitaka laughed. “No. Honor is relative. I don’t know the ways of samurai.” He looked over the smithies, now well into crafting and forging, and Gorou looked up to him expectantly. Nothing was forthcoming, and Ashitaka closed his eyes and felt the wind whisper across his face. “Although,” He continued, making sure the words came out right. “There is something to be said about _what_ you honor.”

Gorou looked up at him, and Ashitaka gave the younger boy a shrug and a small smile. Gorou returned it, dark eyes meeting Ashitaka’s gray. “I don’t care if you’re not wise.” Gorou decided. “I like you.”

Now how in the world did he respond to that? While he was trying to figure it out, a darting bit of motion caught his eyes. Was that… Hitori? Ashitaka stood, sheathing his ringblade, trying to see her as she slowed to a stop beside Chen. Whatever she told him, verbal or not, it caused him to look sharply northward at the foothills ringing the village. He spoke to the men, and Ashitaka could see fear spread among them.

“Come, Gorou!” Ashitaka picked up his bow, took the boys hand, and ran to them, Gorou’s short legs struggling to keep up. “Chen! What is it?”

“Samurai! Hundreds of them!” He returned, drawing his wakizashi and cutting the ropes tying the naginata together, and they tumbled out in a mess of blades and staves. “Arm yourselves!” He cried to the village men, and the small contingent of gun-bearing warriors accompanying them immediately stood, weapons ready.

Ituse shouted out, “Protect the Lady!”

“No!” Ashitaka cried. “We must defend the village!” Eboshi rushed from the shelter of the forge to find chaos, the villagers within earshot either running and bearing the news to the rest of the village, or standing with weapons held hesitantly.

“Company, to me!” She shouted, voice cutting over the currents of humanity, and the gun-bearing warriors, male and female both, took up positions around her. The ragtag warriors and farmers of the village watched the rifles darkly, readying their own rough blades.

“Gorou! Go, find your family, tell them to get out while they still can!” Ashitaka shouted to the child, and he nodded, fear darkening his eyes. He watched the boy run to one of the village men, presumably his father, before turning back to reach Chen, who was frantically speaking with Eboshi and Ituse.

“The food crew is still in the far market, and Ganzo and San still haven’t returned,” he was saying, tightening the straps on his kabuto. “If we retreat now, we would leave the gold, steel, and food behind.”

Dayihata spoke up. “We can’t leave now. The projects are only half-finished!”

“Milady, we must get you to safety!” Ituse overrode.

Eboshi shouted, “Silence!” She was obeyed. “We will retreat. We do not have strength of numbers, and the main force is still back at base camp. Ituse, go to those at the food market and bring as much as you can, and-“

Ashitaka looked back at the people around them. The news definitely hadn’t spread fast enough to reach the outer edges, but he could see people running this way from the direction of the foothills, carrying what they could and expressions of fear plain on their faces. Ashitaka had seen such fear before. His fist clenched and his jaw stiffened, and he couldn’t remain silent any longer. “What about the village!” He shouted to Eboshi, and she turned her gaze upon him, shouting to be heard over the din.

“We owe no allegiance to them, Ashitaka! We must retreat if we are to survive!”

“But we can protect them!” He shouted vehemently, and her eyes narrowed.

“We are leaving, and that is the final word!” Her hard hazel eyes met his, but he didn’t back down. She growled and turned away, shouting orders. Ashitaka looked down, fighting back a curse. Chen’s face was conflicted, and he looked between Ashitaka and back at Eboshi. Ashitaka didn’t care what he did, however.

He looked back down the street, and stood so he could see past the mad rush of people. There. Samurai, in all colors and makes of armor, rushing with blades bared. They had already entered the borders of the town, and those not fast enough to run were being cut down where they stood. It all became clear, then, and his present burdens departed from him, to be replaced with one. One that weighed heavier than a mountain. Kaya was in danger, yes. But her life was far away.

He could help these people, here and now. Fear had stopped him before. Nothing would stop him now.

Ashitaka walked towards the approaching line, deliberately and with meaning, breath coming steadily. Chen shouted to him, voice desperate, but Ashitaka could not hear him over the rushing of blood in his ears. The rushing of indignation, of _anger_.

How _dare_ these take from those that had barely enough to live? How _dare_ these bloody their blades with the lives of the defenseless? The last thought came, surprising in its force. How _dare_ they call themselves human.

The last of the fleeing people swept around him, mothers holding children, comforting even as fear made them stagger, men carrying rough and ragged blades, ready to die for what they loved. And who stood to defend them?

None.

Soon the area was clear of people, leaving Ashitaka alone in the middle of the street, and the sounds of humanity faded behind him, leaving only the monstrous screams and shouts of the approaching enemy. Pain grew in his heart at what he would do. But it was what had to be done.

He unslung his bow, and fitted an arrow to the string. He drew in one smooth moment, and held it still, feeling windspeed and direction, the stillness of peace trying and failing to fill him. Anger would have to do, then.

He released. It took the lead samurai in the eye, and he collapsed under the rush of his fellows. The second and third arrows gave the same result. Ashitaka drew back again and again, the whip of the string blowing a slight wind across his face with every loosening of an arrow. He now could hear the sorrow in the wind as it killed. But even that could not make him stop. He couldn’t.

The samurai began to falter under his assault, and some took up makeshift shields and barriers to protect them as they advanced. It did them little good, as his arrows began to find legs, arms, and fingers. Soreness crept up his arm, but he ignored it. The rushing filled his blood, filled his mind with sickening strength and power, and he used it. He used the power of his anger, until all became the rush. This was not the power of the demon, that stole his choice and used his body. This was the anger of humanity. He shouted his pain, his horror at his anger, for all the world to hear as he brought his enemies down, falling before him like wheat before a sickle. In the back of his mind, he thought he heard the wind reply.

His hand went back, and nothing met his touch. He sucked in a breath, and the samurai rallied, charging with renewed ferocity. He dropped the bow from weak fingers, and he fell to his knees on the dusty ground, not finding the will to draw his blade, heaving shuddering breaths. The wind called him. But he did not rise.

A large figure in black armor ran past Ashitaka, katana and wakizashi flashing in the sun, followed by a wolf with a dappled coat. Ashitaka looked up, not believing his eyes as the ground shook under his feet with the footfalls of dozens of men dressed in simple clothing bearing common weapons. They charged past him, shouting courage and fear and hope in equal measure. A hand clasped his shoulder, dragging him up, and Ashitaka turned to see Ituse, faced fixed in determination as she raised her rifle. She dragged him to his feet, then kissed him on the cheek.

“C’mon, princeling, don’t give up on us now! We still need you!” She raised the rifle and a blast of sound assaulted Ashitaka’s ears as fire leaped from its barrel as if unchained.

“Rifles, take to the roofs! Swordsmen, guard their positions, and don’t give ground until I order!” A voice, haughty, commanding, and furious reached his ears, and Ashitaka smiled, despite himself. Eboshi was staying.

He took a stumbling step, and saw Chen fighting for his life in the front line. Ashitaka took a breath and drew his ringblade. She was right. It wasn’t over.

The wind sang as he charged.


	15. Ch. 15

Eboshi bit back a snarl, drawing her sword. That blasted _fool_ of a boy! Was he _trying_ to get himself killed!? She took a deep breath, forcing herself to analyze the situation, to save what could be saved. Whatever Ashitaka had been planning, -or _not_ planning- had worked, and Chen’s rally had led the peasants to fight like demons beside them, surprising their hardened attackers, but they wouldn’t stand for long unless help came.

But she realized that, like before, she had been presented the choice to stand either with or against the _inexorable_ force that was Prince Ashitaka of the Emishi. She should have known that they would all be swept up in the currents of fate that followed him, regardless of her choice.

And Eboshi had no such choice now.

“You three!” She commanded, and a trio of her warriors snapped to attention, bearing naginata. “Guard Dayihata while he works, -the plans cannot be lost- they are of the utmost importance!” They bowed and ran back to the forges, and she turned back to the battle only to be run into by a small child.

She almost cut him down in surprise, but thankfully restrained her hand. He bowed to her with a hurried, “Sorry milady!”, and dashed off, shouting to the retreating villagers about the “wind warrior”. Was that the boy that had been with Ashitaka? She put it out of her mind, it was of no matter.

She set her sword on the ground and pulled out a short contraption with a stout iron barrel from the loose cloth of her pants. She pointed it in the air and after ducking away, pulled the trigger. A blast sounded in her ears, shoving her hand backwards. She looked up to see an arc of spitting green light as the flare ascended. Well, her fingers were all still on her hand, and the housing hadn’t exploded. A successful first test, then.

Now that the main force had been alerted, she dropped the smoking launcher and placed her foot under the fallen katana, and flipped it up into her hand with a smooth kick. She turned back to the battle just in time to see a second force of samurai approaching from one of the many roads leading into the square, preparing to flank Ashitaka and Chen’s position.

Well, it looked like she had something to do. Eboshi shouted to the last group of her soldiers, “To me! Hold the line!” Those that followed her knew better to protest when Eboshi led the attack. The samurai saw the group coming and readied themselves roughly, one taking charge and shouting orders haphazardly. Good for him, now her snipers knew whom to shoot. A bullet took the lead samurai in the chest, throwing him back into several of his companions, and Eboshi raised her blade with a thin smile as several enemies recognized her with stricken expressions. Shouts of, “The Iron Lady!”, and “It’s Eboshi!” sprang up from them. The cowardly ones backed away, but several broke formation and charged, eyes afire with vengeance.

Oh, so these were Asano’s soldiers. That would make it easier to kill them. She raised her blade in a _kaze_ stance and parried the first angry blow, twisting the blade away from her before spinning to slide her katana between the soldier’s ribs. She wasted no time in jumping back from the next warrior’s two-handed strike. He overextended his reach, and Eboshi moved in and smoothly drew a line across his throat. She did not waste time finishing either of them off, her followers would do that for her. She darted next between two samurai, surprising them with her speed, making sure to be within reach of the her nearest supporting polearms.

One raised his naginata and made to wield it like a quarterstaff, but her first slash left him holding each a piece of the weapon in each hand, and with a flurry of her robe a sudden kick sent him to the ground. She abruptly spun, barely parrying a slice that might have removed her remaining arm, and exchanged several fast blows, driving the second warrior back. This one actually knew how to hold the blade he carried. She sensed other samurai attempting to surround her, but this road was narrow and her soldiers had moved forward as Eboshi gave them ground, protecting her back.

Eboshi rushed forward with a stab that was roughly parried. She whipped her arm back and slashed at his shoulder, but the blade cracked off the lacquered wood armor with little effect. Her arm was tiring. It had been years since she had fought in a pitched battle, and that was when she had both arms to guide a blade. The samurai smirked, confidence returning and drove forward, heavy blows raining down on her weakening guard.

But she wore no armor. That gave her speed. She shifted to _kasai_ stance, and summoned the strength of her legs. Eboshi dodged to the side, surprising her opponent even as she avoided his double-handed strike. He hurriedly swept at her in a backlash, but his momentum was ensured, and she leapt _over_ the samurai’s katana, her slipper-shod feet just inches above the glinting blade. With a cry, she spun her katana into a reverse grip and drove her blade down the gap in his neck armor, blade sinking in almost to the hilt. He collapsed with a cry and her feet met the ground again, stumbling slightly, and she wrenched her blade out with finality.

“Milady, watch out!” One of her soldiers cried, and she dropped to the ground as half of a naginata whistled above her head. She dropped the katana and swept her legs about her, felling the man with a cry, and he landed on the packed earth with a thud. She kicked her red-wrapped katana into the air as the man hurriedly tried to stand, his compatriots rushing forward.

Light shone off the rotating sword, and she analyzed spin and direction as another gunshot burst above them, blowing a hole through the approaching enemies. She stood and plucked the sword from midair, driving it with all of her might into his breastplate, piercing it and pinning him to the ground. She rose, heaving breaths, feeling blood -not her own- run down her face. 

The samurai abandoned all sense of formation and charged en masse, shouting and bellowing, led by a nodachi-wielding giant of a man and a warrior bearing both katana and wakizashi. Eboshi scowled, flinging blood off of her blade with a flourish, and began to back up to the protective line of naginatas behind her. A though struck her suddenly. Were there no archers among-

Suddenly a tall curve of wood arose from the back lines, and the attackers moved out of the way of the great _yumi_ , and an arrow flew from it, grazing her side and striking a soldier behind her in the stomach. She bit back the cry of pain, and shouted, “Tari! Shoot that bow down!” As the sniper called out a response, Eboshi risked a glance back to see who had been hit. Nuramashi. A forge-worker, father of two. One of the first to support Eboshi when she had arrived in Irontown. The arrow had almost gone all the way through him, and she recognized a deadly wound when she saw one.

She faced forwards again, steadying her hand and narrowing her eyes as the samurai rushed at them. Ashitaka protected everything he possible could, and Chen lived to defend the Emishi he had sworn himself to. Eboshi was not like them, assuming the responsibility of more than she could bear on her own shoulders.

But she was responsible for the lives of those that followed her.

The two lines met in a clash of blades. The naginata bearers wove a wall of steel, taking the first samurai down with multiple stab wounds while the swordsmen rallied around her. The dual-wielding samurai met her head-on. His first cut was batted away, but she had to jump back to avoid the rapid thrust of his wakizashi. He wielded both blades with dexterity, and her single katana was hard-pressed to keep the pair at bay. She gritted her teeth and locked his katana with hers, swinging it away. He reeled, and she directed all of her might and slammed his short sword from his left hand. Before he could bring his katana back, she kicked him in the chest, shoving him to the ground with a crash of armor. Before she could finish him off, a glint of light on metal caught her eyes, and she looked up to see a massive blade descending. She raised her sword desperately, and the nodachi descended to meet her unprepared guard.

Eboshi felt fear.

The fifteen pounds of steel ripped her sword from her fingers, the pure power of the blow slamming her to the ground, her head impacting the soil heavily. The samurai’s blade continuing to bury itself in the packed earth inches from her armless shoulder, and she shrunk from it, gasping breath as her vision blurring. Pain coursed through her arm. Had she hit her head? She curled unconsciously into herself, shock rushing through her as the samurai yanked his greatsword out of the ground with a grunt. Other samurai leaped over her to drive her soldiers back from defending her, and the first she had met raised his katana slowly over her prone form, savoring her weakness while the others looked on. Eboshi gasped breaths, looked up at the rising blade with a detached comprehension. She tried to summon the strength to move, to draw her hairpin blade, but her body refused to respond. She was going to die. The thought came, and she acknowledged it.

The blade of a dagger was suddenly stuck in the samurai’s throat. With widening eyes and a gurgle, he collapsed to fall near her, and renewed shouts of battle rose from behind. Eboshi’s mind told her a second force had come, but her eyes were fixated on the dagger that had killed the man.

It was not a blade of metal, but of bone.


	16. Ch. 16

“Milady!” Ganzo called, rushing to protect the fallen woman, but San cursed, looking around at the battle. Eboshi had _better_ be grateful. Now she didn’t have anything to fight with!

To San’s right, Ashitaka and Chen were being driven back, and a third part of the samurai band had found their way around to another street. Ituse was forming a force to counter them, but Ssan could see that it wouldn’t be enough. The snipers were still trying their best to add firepower to the equation, the occasional blast shaking the air above her.

A samurai that had broken a line charged her, and she leapt over his first strike, swinging her leg to catch him in the face, knocking the helmet from his head. He fell, cursing, and she scooped up a fallen soldier’s naginata. Close enough to her spear. He swung at her again, and she easily dodged the blow, spinning the bladed pole around herself. The sharpened end slammed into the samurai’s upheld katana, sweeping it from his grip, and she brought the dull end around to strike him square in the chin. He collapsed, and she made sure he stayed down by driving the sharp point through his breastplate.

She took a deep breath, trying not to use her nose for the smell of death, and looked around. This would be the second time she fought beside other humans, and she missed her brothers. She had left her “shoes” behind ages ago, and her yukata was abandoned just as quickly, leaving her in only the dark blue shift. She felt practically _naked_ without her necklace of fangs _or_ her face paint! She would never play that part again. All she had was the small triangle and the crystal dagger around her neck.

She shifted her grip on the naginata, searching for any way to help. Her eyes went back to Eboshi.  

Ganzo stood over her protectively, the huge man fighting the samurai that had taken her down, the two nodachi-wielding warriors clearing an area for them to duel behind the enemy’s line. Their great blades clanged sonorously against each other, every strike deliberate and enough to cut the other in half with a single blow. Other samurai were gathering around where he guarded Eboshi, preparing to rush in once Ganzo fell, and the Irontown soldiers weren’t strong enough to break through to help them.

San could have let Eboshi die. She knew that. Why had she thrown the dagger, saving the life of the woman that had killed her mother? An answering twinge came from her palm, and she gritted her teeth in frustration. And she could still die. And there was also Ganzo, who had defended her, _surprised_ her. Now it seemed it was her turn. San shook her head and stepped forward.

“Lady Mononoke!” She turned in shock to see Toki and a ragtag group of village warriors entering the square. The woman drew up next to her, rifle held at the ready. Her eyes landed on Ganzo and his duel, and the fallen Lady he defended.

San cut her off before she could speak. “No! I will take care of them, you go help Ituse and Ashitaka! They’ll be overrun if someone doesn’t help.”

Toki looked to her, surprised, but a smile spread across her face. “Yes, my Lady Saisana!” San’s eyes widened, and she shook her head in mute dismay, but Toki only laughed. “Go on!”

San stopped thinking and ran, scrambled up the side of a short building, crystal dagger swinging around her neck as she jumped across the wooden frames of the rooftops. The soldiers and samurai were too busy contending to notice her, and she used that to her fullest advantage.

Ganzo landed a devastating hit on his opponent, and with a shout he kicked the large man into a merchant’s stall, wood splintering beneath his bulk. But at that moment, three samurai rushed forward to attack him from behind, and San leapt.

She landed effortlessly, drifting around surprised attacks. If she had her dagger, they would all be dead already. San smashed the butt of her polearm into the first man’s head before darting to stand beside Ganzo, who had recovered his balance. The captain grunted in surprise but made room for her, and they stood together, each giving the other fighting room as enemies approached from all around. A samurai cried out as he swung at her, and she deftly maneuvered the blade towards the ground, the other end of the naginata impacting his armored side. San reversed direction instantly, the bladed end slamming into his kabuto, denting the metal.

She spun, her bare foot taking the next man in the face, but she knew they couldn’t hold this position forever. San spun the naginata in arcs over her head, warding attackers away by sheer fear of the possibility of its blade finding them. Ganzo roared as he cut down enemies with single strokes, their parries insubstantial before his massive blade, and together they circled, taking down enemies with clean efficiency. They fell into a grim pattern, Ganzo stunning them with his furious power, San finishing them off with the cold precision of a predator, united in purpose if not reason. They both defended the woman that had changed their worlds forever.

………

_Alright! Brother, can you hear me?_

Chen ducked behind Ashitaka, weaving crosses of steel to block a flurry of blows from a pair of determined opponents. The young Emishi smoothly dropped to avoid a naginata, his ringblade cutting at the man’s exposed legs.

 _Kinda busy Hitori!_ Chen thought furiously. “Good one!” He shouted to Ashitaka as he leapt up again to kick the next samurai into a shop’s wall.

The boy did not look to him, but his hard expression softened for a bare moment. Chen had misjudged the prince. They differed, in that Chen took pride in being a warrior, while Ashitaka did not. He could see the pain in the boys’ eyes as he killed, but still he did so. That was a strength Chen knew he himself would never have.

Even after his many hard-fought battles, Chen still felt the thrill of competition, the joy of fighting for his life beside his friends- and he really didn’t want that to go away.  

Chen smiled and moved closer to the pair of samurai, too close for their katana to be of any use, and his wakizashi found a gap in the joints of the first samurai’s armor, felling him. He hooked his foot behind the others and shoved him to the ground with a crash, where a villager wielding a naginata made sure he stayed down. Chen rapidly returned to Ashitaka’s side as Hitori continued.

 _Oh, just wondering if maybe you, ya know, wanted me to save your life or something. But if you want me to…_ stay behind, _I guess I can do that too…_

_Hitori! This is serious!_

_Oh, ok, so you’re not busy? I got the humans with the fire-shooters to follow me! We’re in the hills, oh, hold on a sec, one of em’s yappin’ at me._

Chen growled as his connection with her was lost. He couldn’t lose his patience with her. She was helping, albeit in her own way. It really had been a smart idea of hers, but he could only talk to her if she reached out to him. He glanced once at the hills, but the low buildings blocked his view of everything save the mountains. Chen forced himself to think, fighting by instinct.

What kind of strategy would a force of gun-users implement in a battle like this? Moderate range, moderate accuracy, ridiculous power… Highly effective in straight lines and open areas… His eyes went wide just as Hitori spoke to him again, voice confused.

_Um, they want you all to get out of the way? Something about line of flame? No, line of fire, whatever that means._

“Ashitaka!” Chen shouted. “We have to retreat!” The prince looked to him in confusion, but Chen’s attention was immediately ripped away by a flash of steel the next street over. The Lady Eboshi was on the ground, with only Ganzo standing to protect her against countless enemies. Alone.

“Chen!” Ashitaka disengaged, followed his gaze, and looked to him once, seeing the conflict rising in Chen’s heart. “Go, help them, I’ll lead these!” A bullet screamed past them from a roof sniper, leaving them breathing room as it blasted the lead enemy down.

Chen met Ashitaka’s eyes, and the steel in them was sure. Chen nodded gratefully and dove through the small connecting alley, hearing Ashitaka guiding the others back—yet, his mind was now focused with one purpose.

He emerged in the other street. To his surprise, San had joined in the defense as well, stripped of her disguise, wielding a naginata with natural skill against the enemies that surrounded them on all sides. He was upholding her oath, he realized with surprise. He had known the Princess had honor, but to uphold it this strongly...

He looked down to Eboshi. The Lady was not dead as he had feared, but wounded, stirring numbly. She was alive. He almost laughed for relief, but instead joined the defense, parrying a blow with his wakizashi while his katana whistled to strike the enemy’s neck.

 “Ganzo, San! We gotta go.” He stated at a normal volume, trying not to alert the rogue army of their strategy. San looked at him blankly before ducking under a swing to scoop her dagger from a man’s throat.

“Speak up, man!” Ganzo shouted, but Chen continued at in the same soft tone. “Hitori’s guiding the guns to our location,” He was interrupted by a slashing sword, and Chen swiftly took the samurai down in a flurry of blows. He opened his mouth to continue, but before anything could emerge, the Lady herself spoke up.

“We must remove ourselves so they can have an open field of fire.” Eboshi said, standing shakily, holding her katana in a white-knuckled grip.

Ganzo looked at her in surprise. “Milady, are you alright?” But San’s eyes widened in comprehension at Eboshi’s words, and she immediately began to retreat, knocking and slashing her way out of the circle of enemies.

Ganzo warded the nearest samurai back with a furious swing of his great blade, but Chen sheathed his bloodied katana. He had seen the Lady stagger. There was simply nothing else for it. Chen scooped her up into his arms, ignoring her immediate protests and began to run. She was rather not as heavy as he had expected, and was also softer. What had he expected, solid iron?

 “I can walk!” She shouted in protest, eyes narrowing, but he replied smoothly.

“Not as fast as I can carry you, milady!” She sighed but hung her arm around his neck, katana still held in a shaking grip, and he tucked her closer to him protectively as he ran. “San, get back here!” he called out to the Princess, who had gone ahead and was in danger of being cut off. “We must do this together!” San growled in annoyance but obeyed, waiting for them to reach her. Ganzo was thundering behind them now, his steel armor clanking rhythmically.

 _Y’all better get out of there!_ Hitori’s voice came, frantic now. _“I can direct them to where you are, but they can’t see through the smoke and are getting ready to spit iron!_ The samurai they had been engaged with began to pursue them upon regaining their courage, but the small layer of enemies in between them and the Irontown line rapidly gave way before the small force. San threw her naginata sharply, impaling a man before slashing down any that remained, using her agility to close distances quickly and strike, dagger cutting through their armor like cloth.

Eboshi began calling out a retreat, voice regaining strength even as she was jostled in Chen’s hold, and soon the force of villagers and Irontown soldiers were all retreating before them. Chen looked to his right to see Ashitaka, fighting a rearguard for the village warriors, and past him, Toki and Ituse, now wielding katana, also leading their troops back to the cover of the forges.

Suddenly Chen lost his footing, and with his last bit of balance twisted in midair so as not to fall on Eboshi, gritting his teeth for impact. Chen slammed into the ground with a crash of armor, and he cried out in pain as the hilt of his katana dug into his side. Eboshi gasped and she let go of her sword, her hold on him faltering. The other warriors had passed them in their retreat, leaving them in the open dust of the square before the advancing force.

Within the field of fire.

 _Chen! Get out of there!_ Hitori called pleadingly.

The Lady realized their predicament, and called to her stalwart Captain, the only one to notice Chen’s fall. “Ganzo, stay there! You can do nothing for us!” He shouted something and began running back, but he would be too late.

  Chen looked to the hills and through the slight clearing of the gunsmoke, saw the lines of rifle and polegun-bearing warriors taking aim over the village. There was no time for anything elaborate, so he set the Lady down and covered her as best he could with his armored body. He met her eyes, and she nodded to him in understanding, blood staining her elegance. She put a hand on his shoulder and drew him all the way to the ground, over her. Chen hid his surprise, looking instead at the approaching army with resignation. It would have to be enough.

A roar shook the hills, a dull thunder that lasted far longer than the lightning that caused it had any right to last, overriding the shouts of the samurai army as if it were denying its existence. A hail of bullets tore through the village, turning structures into splinters and rubble in mere moments. Chen averted his eyes as men were twisted into falling beings of blood and metal, no armor stopping the power of the heedless storm of iron.

Fragments of wood and stone fell to the ground around them, and the pair clutched each other tighter as they felt the vibrations of impacts nearing them as the end of volley approached. The earth shook, but Chen did not falter, shielding the Lady with his own body as iron rained around them.

As suddenly as the thunder had roared its defiance, it was ended, a ghostly echo rebounding off the mountains.

They both gasped for breath in the ensuing silence, Chen’s heart pounding in his chest. He rose slightly to meet her gaze once again. Her eyes contained no fear, but were instead regarding him as one looked at ay singularly curious weapon of unknown purpose.

Before she could say anything, however, a chuckle escaped his lips. Her eyes widened as his laughter surfaced, his relief and exhaustion making itself known in the way he knew, and her lips quirked upwards in a slight, wondering smile.

Chen raised himself up, rolling to lay beside her, his laughter bursting from him and filling the silence. She joined him, and they laughed together for a moment—her laugh surprised him with its strength and exuberance. He suspected it was not used much.

“Milady!” Chen reluctantly stood, seeing Ituse and Ganzo hurrying over to them, followed by the united forces of the village and Irontown. He reached down, helping the Lady to her feet. While her laughter had faded, the smile, curious and calculating, still remained. He gave her a quick grin. They turned together and looked over the battlefield, and the grin faded.

Sheer destruction. The entire area around the three streets where they had fought was wiped out, the remnants of men mixing with shattered buildings and livelihoods. The smoke and dust were clearing with the arrival of a light breeze, and they could see the last of the samurai -those that had escaped the destruction- fleeing in disorder. Eboshi met his eyes once again, and her face was calm. She controlled this force, one that could destroy entire armies and overthrow empires. He fought the urge to shiver.

 _CHEN!_ Hitori’s voice came, desperate. Chen was about to reply, but he felt her approaching, and turned to see her sleek form bolting through the wreckage. Her piercing blue eyes were wide. Chen stepped forward and knelt, welcoming Hitori into his arms, and she almost knocked him over with her speed.

Her small form heaved frantic breaths, and she pressed her head into his shoulder, and he just held her for several seconds.

“I thought you died.” Her voice was small. Chen thought he could hear a trace of fear still present, as if she were afraid he would suddenly disappear.

Chen smiled, stroking her gently, her love filling his heart. “No, little one. I still have things to do yet,” He whispered, looking down at her.

“You almost left. You can’t leave me alone, brother.” She stated, dark eyes meeting his firmly. “I won’t allow it.”

“I’ll try my best.” He held her for a second longer, then rose, groaning as his muscles stiffened in protest. “Why can’t people attack me when I’m good and ready for a change?”

“Did you even think for a second before you said that? When are you ever ready?” came the reply, and he grinned, stretching. He _had_ asked for it.


	17. Chapter 17

After the group had retreated a ways to a small rise overlooking the village, Eboshi looked again over the smoking destruction with clear eyes. It was a small price to pay. Despite her fears, they had won. And it was all because of that stubborn Prince, standing for what he believed in. His courage might have killed him.

But as Eboshi thought, she recalled that he wasn’t the only one to fall victim to the jagged, gleaming teeth of idealism.

A sigh left her, sending a shock down her side, and she remembered pain. She gritted her teeth, forcing back the cry, sinking to the ground unsteadily. Frustration grew as pain surged down her arm as well, forcing her to relieve tension on the bleeding wound on her side. She couldn’t even stop her own blood flow!

She had managed to hide her wounds thus far, but Ituse’s sharp eyes widened in concern. She called out to Toki, and Ganzo advanced up the hill behind them, as if sensing her pain.

She forestalled their worried remarks with a raised hand. “Yes, I am injured, but yes, I will live.” She turned, eyes finding the black-armored figure that stood behind them, watching the retreating enemies fade into the forests. “Thanks to Master Chen.” She added softly, and they followed her eyes.

Ganzo knelt beside her, red-faced and heaving breaths. He removed his kabuto slowly, nodachi resting on the ground. She looked to him. He didn’t meet her eyes, and she noticed a line of blood that ran from a small shrapnel wound on his forehead. “My Lady, I dishonored myself and left you.” A shudder wracked his large frame, and he glanced behind her to where Chen stood. “I’m sorry.”

Eboshi reached out, ignoring the pain in her arm and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ganzo.” She stated firmly. The women watched her closely, and she could feel their apprehension. “You stood where I fell. Your honor remains.” He looked up at her slowly, eyebrows rising in surprise. She smiled at him.

Toki spoke up then, a wide grin on her face. “You might be a man, but you’re a good one!”

Eboshi felt the tension leave him, and he let out a relieved sigh. He rose unsteadily, and she let her arm return too his side. “What are your orders, milady?” He intoned, expression hard once again. But she had seen his smile.

“Watch over Dayihata. Make sure he doesn’t work himself too hard.” She cocked her head slightly, and he nodded. He wasn’t the sharpest blade that served her, but he was the most experienced. He knew what she meant. He turned and strode away, slight limp visible now. Immediately the two women began to inspect Eboshi thoroughly, checking her wounds. Toki called back into the mass of nervous soldiers, “Oi! Can we get a medic over here!?”

Eboshi touched the woman’s arm. “I’ll be fine for now, Toki. There are many who need more help than I.” Toki looked back in surprise, and Ituse opened her mouth to argue, but Eboshi fixed her with a glance. “See to them first. Understood?”

“If we do that, milady, then you have to stay right here!” Toki stated, placing hands on hips. “We’ll lead the cleanup, and get everybody assembled again, but you have to rest!” Eboshi raised an eyebrow, but Toki didn’t budge.

“Well, it seems my power has been taken from me. I would call insurrection, but the exhaustion is too great. Do as you wish, just make sure the gold is brought back to us. If the merchant bolted, track him down and bring it back, by force if you need to.”

The women nodded with satisfied smiles. “Yes, milady!” they chorused, but even as Toki began shouting orders, Ituse turned back to shout to Chen.

“Hey! Samurai! Take care of the lady for us, will you!?” Eboshi rolled her eyes and sighed as Chen replied an affirmative from where he talked with Hitori. It seemed her warning hadn’t been as effective as she had hoped.

“And Chen!” Ituse called again. “Patch her up while you’re at it! Genro said you’re good at that!” Eboshi’s eyes narrowed. Saving her life was all well and good, but touching her... That would take a little more convincing.

And yet, his company wasn’t altogether unpleasant, she reluctantly admitted to herself. His clear laughter had surprised her own out of her. Few could say they had done that.

Eboshi watched as the crowd of soldiers and villagers; the former group looking about warily with the latter joyous at their victory, were divided and given tasks by Toki and Ituse. They were good women, and they had learned well. They were leaders now, and this was a good chance for them to prove themselves.

Her thoughts were distracted as she saw a figure in blue separate from the crowd, seeking out another wearing a darker-hued shift. Eboshi watched as San and Ashitaka embraced each other. She thought she could hear his exclamations of relief as he found her untouched, and her concern as she touched a wound on his upper arm. He said something and San laughed, that sound managing to reach Eboshi’s ears over the drifting smoke.

She had expected them to grow farther apart during this journey, but instead they had grown closer. Young love… so foolish. They had barely known each other for months, and Eboshi was relatively sure that she could count the number of times they had seen each other during this journey on her hands, if she counted the one that was no longer attached to her body. But the joy in their eyes…

She lowered her gaze and reached to pick up her katana from where it had fallen, trying to distract herself. The blade was yet unmarred, if stained. Only the finest steel for the Shogun.

Her thoughts returned to San. The girl had saved her life. There was no getting around it, she was taking her end of the oath far more seriously than Eboshi had thought she would. She had saved Eboshi’s life, not once, but twice. A shiver moved down her, despite the heat of the morning sun. That had been… close. She had survived worse, or course, but this time... This time she was weak. Her single fist clenched, and she bit down a gasp with narrowed eyes as the pain sought to remind her of her weakness.

And it was all because of Ashitaka. She would have to speak to him of his heroism. While Ashitaka of the Emishi could get away with foolish things, Kage the shadow could not. She heard Chen approach her, but she didn’t turn to him.

“That was a close fight.” He stated, gingerly sitting cross-legged on the ground beside her, taking care not to sit on his sheathed weapons. Chen’s kabuto was removed, and he looked over the destruction with that small grin, pushing a hand through his unruly blonde hair.

“Yes.” She replied simply, continuing to feign interest in the organization below, but inwardly she tensed.

“Ashitaka really showed us.” Chen was leaning forward now, expression contemplative. “He had seemed worthy of honor with his words. But he really truly is worthy, isn’t he?”

“He is a fool.” Eboshi stated curtly. “We might have lost everything because of his unthinking actions.”

“That depends on what kind of thoughts you assume drove his action.” Chen replied quickly, and she turned to him in surprise. He didn’t look back, just rubbed his clean-shaven chin in thought.

“If we were looking for logical thought, the kind that says, ‘There is one of me and two hundred of them, I should probably listen to Eboshi and retreat.’—then yes, I would agree that his actions were not thought through.”  He met her eyes then, searching them. “But I do not think Ashitaka’s thoughts work that way. Do you?”

Eboshi shook her head, waiting for his next words, a faint smile growing. He was correct, of course. He smiled and looked out again at the mass of people, now starting to venture into the wreckage with weapons held ready.

“If we are agreed on that point, then it only makes sense that his line of thinking led him to believe that what he did was right.” Chen nodded thoughtfully. Then a laugh burst from him, bringing a full smile to her face. “Curiously enough, that line of thought also is what drove me to stand beside him.” He leaned back, tone becoming serious. “Do not judge his actions by your motivations, Lady Eboshi.”

She met his eyes, which were firm. “We all have our own choices, which we face in our own ways. He chose his path with his heart, and for that he succeeded. We all did.” Her expression didn’t change, but he continued. “Now if we take it from your point of view, Lady…”  

“My point of view?” She questioned, smile growing. “What view might that be, Master Chen?”

“I don’t know why everyone insists on calling me master, I was never even a trainer…” He muttered before clearing his throat, eyes sparking with amusement. “From your point of view, the sensible, respectable, calculating point of view, didn’t he still make the right choice?” Eboshi raised an eyebrow and made to speak, and he held up a hand desperately. “Hear me out, milady! Had we retreated, would we not have lost all of your gold, metal, and the chance to replenish our supplies?”

            “Yes…” She began, pondering her next words, but before she could speak he beat her to it.

            “Exactly! So even if his thoughts were not logical, the rewards are.” He flashed his beaming smile at her, and she mutely gazed at him for a moment.

            “I’m not sure that’s how it works… Chen.” He shrugged, but it was her turn to interrupt. “Yet your logic, however unconventional, is sound. Despite the enormous risk, we did win. And I will try not to judge him so harshly. He is hardly more than a boy, after all.” She shifted, and a spasm shot though her. She fought desperately to hide it from him, but a groan escaped through gritted teeth as pain began to pulse with every heartbeat. Whatever closing it had gained in her rest had been reopened. Chen noticed, eyes widening at the fresh blood staining her side.

            “Milady, would you allow me to dress your wound? I have training.” Surprise mixed with the pain, as she met his eyes. He would give her a choice? “That really is not a small amount of blood, milady…”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yes. I will allow you.” She carefully reached under her kimono and lifted the cloth to expose her midriff, the arrow wound smarting at the abrasion. Her eyes flashed up. His eyes were locked on her face, looking nowhere else.

Curious. She nodded silently, and he undid a clasp of his chest armor and reached inside, drawing out a length of white cloth. “Do you have water?” He asked in the sudden tension, and she shook her head. “Well, let’s take a look at that wound then.” Eboshi raised her kimono slightly, and a bolt of pain flashed up her arm, forcing her to gasp and drop the garment. “Careful there. What happened to your arm?”

She took a deep breath, to clear the lightness in her head from pain. “I blocked a hit. It was very strong.”

He nodded, understanding. “It must have been a nodachi. They can break a sword and take a man’s arm off in one swing. At risk of stating the obvious, my lady, you’re strong, and so is your blade.”

“Thank you.” She reached back again to lift her kimono, but Chen touched her wrist gently.

“Allow me.” She met his eyes. They were firm. And clear as the sky.

She twisted, grimacing in pain, and his unarmored hands gathered the loose folds of her kimono and undershirt and efficiently began to tie it behind her back She fought the flush that crept up her face. It was not one of embarrassment, but of frustration. A man was tying her loose clothes, because she couldn’t. She took a long deep breath, calming herself. She gave a wry laugh, letting that much show. “You are a good man, to assist a cripple.” She stated, frustration barely contained.

“You are no cripple, my lady.” He immediately stated. “Hold your breath.” She did so, and he tightened the knot with a jerk, sending a flash of pain down her side. He moved to crouch beside her, examining the arrow wound.

“You’ve said that before, but I didn’t have time to properly explore that statement.” She began.

“It’s a long story, my lady.”

 “And do we not have time? Please, elaborate for me.”

“Hmm… clean, if rough,” he muttered to himself, leaning down to inspect the area around the gash. “Not deep. This should do for now.”

She waited, but he eventually replied. “My people, the Reiti, live in the mountains. We do a lot of stonework, standard, specialty, you name it, we work with it. But stones…” He paused. “Stones are heavy. Again, stating the obvious.” He continued, drawing out a small pouch from the same gap in his armor. “My father was a stonecutter. One day in the quarries, a piece of equipment failed. I was a toolrunner that day.”

He stopped again, and she tilted her head curiously. She could almost see the memories in his eyes.

“I heard his cry of pain from the other end of the quarry. A block, almost three tons of granite, had come loose from the housing and crushed his leg.”

He looked down and began to apply some kind of poultice from the pouch to the bandage. His mouth was set in a firm line. “When I got there, they had already removed his leg. My older brother, his toolhand, had ran to the village to tell mother. I’d never seen my father in such pain, but still he smiled.” The grim set of his features was bent by a wondering curve. “Still.” He repeated. Eboshi resisted the urge to remark on how well that particular trait had been passed from father to son.

He shook his head, and took the bandage in both hands, gesturing. She raised her arm, and he leaned forward, arms moving around her to wind the bandage, head coming close to her empty shoulder. The smell of the medicine, a stout piney odor, mingled with the scents of oiled steel and warm lacquer that came from Chen. She pushed distraction away and focused on what he would say next.

“He could have chosen to become a dependent, a man who had lost the ability to work, and would be supplied by the village council thereafter.” Chen wrapped the bandage around her torso smoothly, the poultice stinging her exposed flesh. “Brace yourself.” She did, and he pulled the bandage tight with a yank, pain hissing through her clenched teeth.

He did not apologize, as she expected, but continued, tying the wrap expertly. “But no, not Adrei Shovaru. Father expanded his skills and became an artisan, one who carves details, facets into the stone. My family moved closer to the quarry so he could still get to work on the crutches my brother made for him.” Pride for his family was now evident in his voice, and she pushed back the unpleasant thoughts that threatened to distract her. Why was he telling her this? It couldn’t just be to convince her of her abilities, there had to be some other reason… or did there?

He finished the knot and leaned back, meeting her eyes. “So, when I say you are not a cripple, I am saying you are honorable enough to continue to live, to choose your own path instead of life choosing one for you.” He closed the pouch and placed it back under his armor, ignoring the blood now staining his hands. “The fire rose, and you rose with it, to completely butcher a Reiti saying.”

“Your father sounds like a good man.” She said carefully. He nodded once, emphatic.

“He is. Do you understand my unnecessarily vague sayings now?”

“Thank you for those words, Chen. I understand.” She looked down at his handiwork, and twisted carefully. Pain still came, but the wrappings stayed firmly in place, only the faintest tinges of blood visible. “This is good work. Where did you learn medicine?”

“My mother. She was a healer, and I followed her Path.”

Eboshi glanced up at him incredulously. “You are a samurai, Chen. That is quite the opposite.”

            Whatever lessening of joy had come from telling his story, it returned to him with an abashed chuckle. “Forgive me, I forgot my context. The Paths are a piece of Reiti culture, and have to do with what a child is taught. Here, I might as well check your arm as well.”

She held it up, shaking back her sleeve, and his right hand took her own carefully, surprising her. “Interesting. I had heard of the Reiti, but met only few. Your people are distant.” Despite her casual words, Eboshi watched him like a hawk as he inspected the limb, wondering if she should take her hand back. Maybe it was another piece of his cultural medicine?

“We like it that way.” He replied, studying her arm carefully. “The Empire leaves us well alone, thanks to our friends, the mountain. Try to bend your arm, like so.” She nodded and imitated his action, trying to pull his hand towards her.

“All your strength now.” She shoved against his arm as hard as she could, and she felt him tense, bracing against her. His arm might have been steel, and did not give way, but she could tell she had surprised him.

“Wow. You feel pain?”

“A little.”

“Alright, try this then. All your strength again.” Eboshi followed his direction, trying to move his hand in any of the ways he instructed her. Some ways brought pain, and others did not, and Chen’s face was etched in concentration as she described to him the specific effects of her movement. She deduced that he was diagnosing the damage by the amount of pain she felt and where. It was a hard and strange process, but it seemed effective.

“So, good news, your arm’s not broken.” He began, and her lips inched upwards.

“Something you should know, Chen, is that I always want to hear bad news first.”

He considered this, brows furrowing, and held up a finger. “All right, so in better news, it’s still attached to your body.” Eboshi’s eyes widened, and before she could stop it, a laugh broke from her lips. Chen watched her with a smile, not the roguish grin or perplexed twist of his lips that she knew. An honest, true smile. Not directed at her beauty, nor the power she held, not even at her missing arm. Not to Eboshi.

It was to her.   

Then he looked away, and stood up with a groan, armor creaking. “You good with moving? That sun’s getting high.” She nodded, picking up her sword, and rose as well. She made no motion for his assistance, and he did not offer any. They walked down the hill together.


	18. Chapter 18

San held her breath, and let it out shakily. Heart quivering with tension, she took a delicate sip from the small cup in her fingers. It wasn’t that the tea didn’t taste good, it really did. It was just that the other cup was making her nervous. The one sitting on her head.  

            “As you understand the value of concealing emotion, we now turn to application,” Eboshi continued, pacing as she considered her next words, and San struggled to concentrate on her voice. Toki, Ituse, and San sat near each other on one side of the fire, with both San and Ituse being tested on poise and balance. Toki watched the pair of them carefully as San took another careful sip, her own cup held loosely, it being her turn to watch.

This was hard. San had already spilled several cups of hot water -not as many as Ituse and Toki- but she had finally been deemed ready to have tea on her head instead. And nothing, save facing an angry Moro or looking directly into Ashitaka’s smile, was more stressful than this.

At least she had her marks back on her face.

            “The greatest value in hiding emotions is the influence it allows you to exert on those around you, by showing only the emotions you choose to show. This is especially useful against men, many of whom hold the erroneous belief that what a woman is not intelligent enough to hide her emotions and that her face shows, without fail, what she is feeling.” She stopped her pacing, and met each of their eyes in turn. Ituse froze mid-sip. “This can be used to great advantage. Understood?” Toki nodded, and Ituse followed suit only to have the lukewarm liquid splash down her front, the thick cup falling to the grond. San hid her amusement behind another sip as the other woman swore in anger before Eboshi directed her gaze at her.

            “What did I tell you about language, Ituse?”

            “Sorry, milady, I… forgot myself.” Ituse lowered her head, and Toki, sitting between them, handed her a drying-rag with a hidden smile. San finished her tea triumphantly.

Eboshi strode forward, looking into their cups. “Better, Ituse.” She moved to San’s cup, and her eyebrow twitched up. “Very good, Princess. Your natural grace finally comes through.” San shoved back the flash of pride. The insufferable woman hadn’t even thanked San for saving her life, and she wasn’t about to start fawning over her just because Eboshi praised her.

She caught Ituse’s customary glare from the corner of her eye. The woman had been extra indignant recently after Eboshi had appointed the pair of female captains as attendants to the Lady Saisana, but San wasn’t about to voice objection. 

            San gently picked the platter from off her head, setting the wooden cup down carefully. Her hair was done up in a curious fashion to allow for better balance, but it was still quite difficult. Eboshi continued.

            “As if to counter my previous statement, one of the finest examples of this I have seen is Prince Ashitaka. At times, he is as easy to read as the Three Codes, but at others. he is as impenetrable as a stone.”

            “And as serious as one,” Toki commented, beginning to tie her hair above her head, preparing for her turn with the teacup. “That boy never smiles.”

“He does smile,” San protested quietly, and Toki laughed.

“I think you’re biased, miss Saisana.”

San fought the blush that tried to creep up her cheeks. Eboshi took firm hold of a folded fan and rapped it against a support pole. “Attention. He serves as a fine example of hiding one’s emotion, and even now, after we know his identity, he yet retains walls that hide his true nature. The two of you,” Eboshi brandished the fan like a sword, pointing to Ituse and Toki, “tell me what you see in Ashitaka based on his words and actions.”

The pair of women glanced at each other in confusion, and San looked at Eboshi suspiciously. What was she playing at here?

“Um, he’s very serious?” Toki began hesitantly.

“Stoic,” Ituse added, “very… intense.” They both nodded enthusiastically at that.

“Kind,” Toki stated firmly. “He’s a good man. He’s always nice to everyone. Remember how when he first came to see us, he took the bellows for Nari?”

“Yeah, I just thought he was showing off at first, but he just kept on going,” Ituse said, nodding. “And when he helped old Daro down the mountain? He’s a good one.”

“He’s strong as hell.”

“Brave.”

“Sweet, in kind of a weird way.”

“Polite! No man’s ever talked to me like that before.”

San felt a strange, fluttering pride creep into her heart. For Ashitaka. And he loved her. Her, the strange wolf girl, the one that had tried to kill him. Yet he still did.

Suddenly, as if reminding her of its existence, the weight of the dagger around her neck grew heavier, and the fluttering grew uncertain.

“Now, San, what does he see in you?”

San blinked in surprise, looking to Eboshi. “See in me?” she exclaimed incredulously.

Eboshi sat gracefully, no trace of pain from recent wounds in her eyes. “You do not have to answer, but please keep that question in the back of your mind. Toki, please put the cup down, we will take a short break from exercises in poise for the moment.”

She did so, exchanging a nervous glance with San. If Eboshi halted the more physical parts of the instruction, that meant that special emphasis was to be placed on verbal instruction.

“You have told me what you see of Ashitaka. Yet, that is only the surface. Now, what does he hide? San, again, is disqualified.”

This silence was longer. Toki leaned forward, eyebrows lowering in thought, and Ituse bit her lip uncertainly. San waited, back straight, face carefully controlled. What was the woman doing?

“Lots of pain. Mostly from hearing about Kaya,” Toki finally said, a hint of question showing in her voice. She glanced nervously at San.

“He is…. was, devoted to her,” Ituse stated firmly, her gaze deliberately avoiding anything near San. “I saw the look in his eyes that night. But now that she’s in trouble… well, he’s really shook up.”

“And now he’s confused.” Toki’s eyes flashed to San as she said this. “And… afraid.” San drew in a slow breath. “Hell, I didn’t know that boy could feel fear.”

They were right, of course. No matter how much she wanted to, San couldn’t deny their words.

“I don’t think we can know all the reasons,” Ituse finished uncertainly.

Eboshi flicked open the fan. “Humans are far too complicated for that. Nevertheless, he has deemed it necessary to hide certain points of information from all of us. Now, people hide emotion so that they may protect themselves, correct?” Ituse nodded hesitantly, but San was still, waiting for the next words, barbed as they might be.

 “There are those who would expose such things, to cause pain. When you are a woman, men seek out these weaknesses, to find in them those things that cause pain. Whether to harm, exploit, or merely comfort, it matters not what their intention is. This will invariably lead to further pain through lies or manipulation. And this applies to all men.” Her cold eyes found San.

“That’s stupid.”

The other two pairs of eyes followed Eboshi’s, wide in shock. She met them firmly. “Ashitaka has never sought my weakness.” She proclaimed. Strangely, Ituse looked down, rather than speaking against San’s outburst, as she normally would.

“Really, Princess? Never?” Eboshi’s tone was neutral, but her eyes were hard. She had closed the fan. San nodded, knowing better than to speak. Her words would be used against her as surely as a sword would.

“What of the dagger?” San’s heart was pierced through with ice. “Did it not belong to this Kaya? What is its meaning, and why has he given it to you?” Each question battered San with its force, and she could almost feel the strength of its doubt seep into her. “So, I ask again Princess, what do you really mean to him?” San’s mouth drew to a thin line, and she lowered her narrowed eyes, fighting every fiber of her being that urged her to strike, to run. But her rebellious ears listened.

“Ashitaka is a good man, not like others I have known. I know you care deeply for him,” Eboshi said once again “but even he hides things from you, to influence and use. No matter how good a man he is, he will break your heart.” San shook her head wordlessly, desperately. “San, listen,” Eboshi commanded, leaning forward, and against her will, San looked to her. And she listened.

They locked eyes, jagged blue with hardened bronze. Eboshi spoke slowly, deliberately.  “Provided you listen, I can teach you how to not be broken.”               

San’s eyes narrowed. Her fist clenched, her nails digging into the flesh of her palms, the reminder there twinging. “I’ve already been broken,” San ground out. The death of her mother, the death of the forest, her futile attempts to save what she loved, all came rushing back to her. And what had held back her despair?

“He fixed me,” she stated, as clearly as she could muster, shoving her doubts as far away as she could, casting them to the dark corners of her mind. “I do not need to learn to be fixed by you.”

“Don’t be a fool, Princess,” Eboshi stated warningly.

“I’d rather be a fool than be like you,” San spat, and Eboshi’s eyes widened. Toki cursed under her breath, and Ituse’s hand went inside a pocket.

Eboshi held her gaze icily. San didn’t back down, only met her glare with one of her own. Ituse and Toki’s eyes flicked between the pair nervously.

            “So be it,” Eboshi stated. “You have been warned. Continuing from where we were interrupted-“

San looked down at her clenched fists, heart wrenching. She was right. Ashitaka would never hurt her. She trusted him.

But one thought, insidious and wriggling, made itself known.

Did he trust her? 


	19. Chapter 19

            Ituse went looking for Mononoke. Not something she ever thought she would be doing, but here she was. She didn’t even have her rifle on her shoulder! She shook her head, but stopped as she felt the tie holding her hair loosen. She reached back to retie it, brown eyes narrowing as she looked around at the ordered lines of tents for the now-familiar figure in white.

            The camp was not large, and it wouldn’t take long for Ituse to look through the entire thing. Night was beginning to fall, the faint red on the horizon beginning to depart as the sun’s light lessened, and the younger members of the company had already been sent running to light braziers and torches. Their work complete, the older members were already beginning to sit by the fires, sticking mostly to gender groups. Ituse itched to join her friends, but this was important.

            If she could even find that burning wolf girl… She hurried along, grateful for the functional warrior garb Eboshi had provided them. Long sleeves, light materiel, and a warrior’s bound leggings, mostly covered by the long fringes of the outer coat-like layer. Traditional kimono were restrictive, and the worker’s robes were cold and frankly too revealing. Unlike most of the others women, Ituse had been a simple farmer’s wife until Eboshi had arrived, teaching Hayoi and the other men to be warriors.

            The simple band of iron on her finger was all that remained of him, now. Her other possessions and keepsakes had been destroyed in the old Irontown.

And now she was the warrior.

            Casting her narrowed eyes about in annoyance for the last time, she caught a glimpse of light gray in the edge of the forest just south of the camp. Ituse halted, eyes narrowing, and she took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure to be pleased that she had found her, or worried further. The Lady had been harsh on the girl, and while normally Ituse would have enjoyed that, this time…

            This time she had gone too far. Ituse squared her shoulders and marched forward determinedly, pushing the tall grass aside. Soon the girl came into full sight, her back to a thick tree. Her round-eyed mask was on her face. Was she honestly pouting like a child?

            Then Ituse saw the dark form of the young wolf beside her. Ituse paused, seeing Mononoke’s downcast head and the wolf supporting the weight of the human girl’s body. Like two sisters, sitting together.

At her approach, their heads raised in unison, two pairs of hard blue eyes seeking out who sought them. Hitori was no longer the small pup that Ituse had looked after weeks ago, while Chen was healing. She was almost the size of a small person now.

            “Did Eboshi send you?” Mononoke stated coldly, sitting up as her hand gently stroked the wolf’s shoulder. She couldn’t tell any more about the girl’s mood, and Ituse didn’t want to get any closer. Ituse had always been a straightforward person, but this girl… even when sitting she still carried that unmistakable aura of power, of unpredictability, and it was suddenly hard to fit the words together. But they came together in an interesting way.

            “The Lady was wrong.” Mononoke looked up, and Ituse could sense her surprise. She took another breath, and continued. “You may be naïve, but you are not foolish. You are loyal to Ashitaka and his love, and that… is not what I expected.”

            Mononoke looked away from her, the monstrous mask turning its attention elsewhere. Ituse fought back a shiver. It seemed she had nothing to say to that, so Ituse turned to walk away.

“Do not leave, please.” It was Hitori’s voice. Ituse stopped, the previously held-back shiver shaking through her. The voice of a young woman, coming from a wolf… it was unnatural. But she turned, nevertheless, to meet the young god’s eyes. She had asked pleasantly, and Ituse had nothing against her specifically. “Why did you come?” she asked, tilting her head, ears pointing straight ahead.

            “I love the Lady and will always follow her. But that does not mean I agree with everything she says. I wanted Mononoke to know that,” Ituse stated, tense.

            “What do you know of loyalty and love?” the wolf asked. It held no trace of mockery or anger, it was simply a question. But Mononoke was looking at her now.

            “My husband,” She began, trying to keep the pain and anger out of her voice. She was not here to condemn Mononoke. “He was always good to me. He was a very honest man. Like your Ashitaka.” Mononoke simply looked at her, that pale mask hiding everything. “You defended him, have been defending him. You’re scared to lose him, aren’t you?” Mononoke grabbed at the crystal on her neck suddenly, and even though Ituse couldn’t see her face, she knew that desperation. Emotions rose in Ituse as her own hand went to the iron ring. A realization stung her. Mononoke was not the monster that Ituse had thought she knew. She was just a girl.

            “That kind of pain comes with love. And you must know of it, so you can learn. That is what I know, Mononoke.” Ituse nodded to the wolf. “Good night.”

            She turned and walked from the deeper shadows of the trees, forcing down the emotions in her eyes. Ituse was halfway across the clearing before words came into her mind. 

            Thank you for helping my sister, Ituse. You are a good human.

Ituse gasped, but forced herself to keep walking. Once safely within the firelight, she looked back. The wolf girl was curled in on herself, legs drawn to her chest, mask hidden behind tightly crossed arms. And beside her, was a pair of glowing eyes, orange from the firelight.

            ……..

            “Oi, Ashitaka! Fresh bandages, on the double!”

            “Yes, ma’am!”

Ashitaka rushed from his attentive position at the cramped medical tent’s wall to where Kinu stood, concentrating on a wounded man’s torn leg. The assistant beside her handed him a bundle of bloody bandages, and he bowed slightly before running to the boiling pot of water just outside. He placed the dirty bandages on a scrubbed flat rock, and then immediately removed the soaking pieces of cloth carefully with a hooked stick, draping them over a drying rack.

            Ashitaka rinsed the worst of the blood out of the cloth in a small basin, trying not to breath in the miasma of wounds. He honestly enjoyed this kind of work, that kept his body moving and mind clear. Especially the kind where he could assist others. 

He dropped the bandages into the boiling pot, stirring them slightly so the cleansing would go faster. He took the dripping fresh rags, wincing at their heat, but rushed back into the tent.

Kinu looked up, creased brow easing, although she didn’t let her breath of relief out. “Over here!” He hurried to her, stepping over sleeping patients carefully. The assistant took a single bandage from his ready arms, and Kinu immediately began wrapping the handspan-long gash in the soldier’s leg once again, a fresh layer of salve applied to the wound.

            The man gritted his teeth, clenched on a thick twig, and sweat began to bead on his forehead, while the assistant took his white fist in her hands gently, murmuring comforting words. Soon, his breathing calmed as Kinu finished tying the wound, darkness already showing through the clean material. “All done, Nari. Go to sleep now, let us know if you need anything, all right?”

            “The gods bless you, Mistress Kinu. And you, Kuza.” A weak smile lifted the man’s features, and she put a hand on his shoulder before rising.

            “Kuza, please fetch Rimasu, it’s her turn. And put those there, Ashitaka,” She said, exhaustion lacing her voice, and he set the other fresh strips on what passed for her medical table. He stood expectantly, waiting for more orders as the assistant left the tent. They were surrounded by those wounded in the battle several days ago, all those that could reasonably travel or be taken along, the rest remaining in the hands of the grateful villagers. And Ashitaka had helped Kinu with aiding every one of them.

The middle-aged woman yawned and stretched, and Ashitaka couldn’t fight away his own yawn. He had been at this since they had stopped for the day, several hours at least. In the back of his mind, he realized that San must have finished with her lessons by now. He hoped they had gone well. San hadn’t complained to him about them for at least three days, a good sign.

            “Ashitaka, thank you so much for your help. I would tell you to get somebody to replace you, but you’re one of the few men in this camp that knows anything about proper hygiene.”

            “Well, there is Master Chen, Mistress Kinu,”

            “I know, but he’s got other responsibilities.” A small smile tugged at her lips as she sat on the packed floor for a bare moment. “I’d prefer he spend his time protecting the Lady.” Her voice was wry.

            Ashitaka nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure why that was amusing to the woman.

            “Well, go on!” She waved her hand in a shooing motion, smile growing. “You’re done here! Go get some sleep, sharpen your sword, talk about girls or whatever it is y’all boys do. Go on!” He bowed with a sheepish smile and left the tent.

He took off the vest-like garment, washed his hands as best he could, and picked up his ringblade where he had left it. Picking it up, he walked in the direction of the men’s campfire with his shirt under his arm, enjoying the cool night air. The wind whistled slightly through the trees. It was calm this night. He was relatively sure the other women in the camp were at their own fire, so he should be safe for a bare second, right?

Ituse rounded the corner, looking almost furtive, but when she saw him, her eyebrows rose. He continued on, nervously avoiding her gaze. She chuckled to herself as he passed, and he thanked the gods that it had been her instead of anyone else.

He shrugged on his blue coat, belting the ringblade under it. His fingers brushed the two ribbons tied to the iron ring. One red, and the other blue. One from Kaya, and the other from Gorou. The boy had ran and told the other villagers of Ashitaka’s decision, apparently convincing many others to stand and fight. A small smile crossed Ashitaka’s face. It hadn’t been so long ago that Ashitaka had been like Gorou.

He approached the large fire slowly, shielding his eyes from the large amounts of light. Even here he could hear Chen’s voice over the laughter of the others.

Kohroku caught sight of him first. “Hey! Wind warrior!” The others turned with him, shouts of welcome and greeting overtook whatever Chen had been saying. Ashitaka shrunk back even as he grinned awkwardly before the title, which had been granted him by the people of the village they had fought in and accepted whole-heartedly by Eboshi’s company.

 Hands reached out and pulled him into the circle, and he laughed and smiled in their enthusiasm as they sat him next to Chen on the repurposed log, who clapped him on the back enthusiastically. “There you are! I though Kinu had gone and married you, you were over there so long!” An uproar of laughter followed his words, and Ashitaka laughed with them, the heat of the fire reaching into him and warming his bones.

“Quiet, y’all!” Genro tried to be heard over the uproar. “Go on, Master Chen!” As suddenly as they had raised their voices, the entire group, over forty men, fell quiet save the occasional mutter as they looked to Chen expectantly. The samurai was unarmored, though his wakizashi was at his side and the Lady’s sword leaned on the log behind him.

“I’ll have to tell you the whole story later, Ashi, it’s a good one.” Chen whispered conspiratorially before winking at Ashitaka. He leaned forward, and every man in the circle -and some outside it- leaned in to hear his next words.

“So there we were, several dozen yards up the mountain. The enemy camp lay spread before us like a bowl, and my men were at their positions. Daisuke asks me, ‘Are you sure about this, Captain?’ I look right back and tell him, ‘Daisuke, have you ever know me to be sure about anything?’ He shakes his head, then.” Chuckles spread and settled as Chen continued. “I smile, put my hand on the boulder and say,” He paused dramatically, and all leaned in, one man jumping back with a shout as a spark jumped out at his face, bringing a ripple of quickly shushed laughter. A roguish grin spread. “‘Exactly,’ says I. Then we start pushin’.” Excited murmurs rose and fell.

“With Daisuke and Hayato pushing with me, that great bugger of a pebble starts moving, and-“ Ashitaka’s mind began to wander, and instead of listening to Chen’s story, he just relaxed and basked in the feeling of being with people, watching the smiles and wide eyes of the men he had come to know over these short months. The warmth of companionship mixed with the warmth of the flames, and he closed his eyes contentedly.

Companionship was not something he was used to. He had been alone for years, with only his mentors to guide him as he learned the ways and wills of the Emishi royalty. He had trained relentlessly to be acceptable before as a Watcher before his people and their traditions. For five years, he had trained. And then Kaya arrived. As the Daughter-Heir, born in the south village, he had never met her before. She had been hardly four years old, then.

And then she had been trained as well, in similar yet different ways than he had been, but for both of them it became harder than ever. But they had each other. And then, together, they had gained their Responsibilities, and the right to join the rest of Emishi society, preparing for the day when they would be joined as the Eternal Watchers. The contentment began to fade, the weight returning. That was when the demon had attacked.

“And then it exploded! The entire north side of the camp went up in flames higher than the trees-” Chen exclaimed, raising his hands into the air to pantomime an explosion. Every man’s face was focused on Chen, attention fixed. Ashitaka’s gaze was locked on the glowing coals in the heart of the fire.

Ashitaka realized that his thoughts of terror and fear at Kaya’s fate were growing lesser now, becoming almost numb. She was becoming distant even as they came closer to her. And he knew why.

So the pain of her loss wouldn’t break him.

He lowered his eyes to gaze at the ground, the laughs of the other men washing over him like a tide, signaling the end of Chen’s story. He put his head in his hands, fingers running through his dark hair. San was right. It seemed joy had no place in his heart.

Chen’s hand settled on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Ashitaka? Girl problems?”

A short, halting laugh broke from Ashitaka, and he tried to fix a smile on his face. But it wouldn’t stay. Chen’s eyes filled with concern, and he saw through his weak mask immediately. “Hey, you okay?” Ashitaka nodded, wordless. “Don’t lie, it’s not good for you. About Kaya?” Chen asked quietly, and Ashitaka nodded again, mouth a firm line as he kept his emotions from crawling up his throat.

Chen’s arm wrapped around him, and he pulled Ashitaka against his solid frame. “Hey, kid. We’re gonna make it. What would she want for you? For you to sulk and droop in despair, or to live? You hear me?” Ashitaka didn’t meet his eyes, just took a long shuddering breath. “You hear me?” Chen repeated, and Ashitaka looked up into the older man’s eyes. They were firm, and the fire reflected off the blue.

“I hear you, Chen.” Ashitaka whispered, letting his eyes close once again, relaxing under the samurai’s arm. It was almost like… when his father had held him. All those years ago, before he had been alone. Chen tightened his grip and shook him firmly before releasing him.  

“Hey! Kohroku! Got your flute with you?”

“Just so happens I do! You want to embarrass me with it?” he stated brightly, bringing out the length of carved wood as laughter once again shook the coals.

“Brother, I would honor you with it! And besides, I think we could all do with some music!” His announcement was greeted with general favor. “What songs do y’all lowlanders know?” Ashitaka raised his head, watching as the flute was passed carefully from one man to the next until it reached Chen. Song requests were being hurled back and forth, light-hearted disagreements separating into individual arguments until Chen held up a hand, summoning silence. He raised the flute to his lips and began to play a melody unfamiliar to Ashitaka, but soon the assemblage was all clapping or stamping to the infectious lilt of the tune.

The music reached into Ashitaka. It sat, dancing on his hardened, fragile heart. He had a choice, it seemed. He raised a hand to his chest. What would Kaya want of him?

Memories returned, of those days under the sun, when they were free, just the two of them. Kaya, smiling and laughing. Kaya, imploring. She would want him to live.

His heart opened, and the music flowed in. Ashitaka smiled and looked up, watching Chen’s enthusiastic playing, and he listened to the voices that were raised, roughly and fervently, to join it. He hummed, trying to find the tune, hearing in the back of his mind the wind singing in time with Chen’s music.  


	20. Ch. 20

San avoided moving in the flickers of firelight. The shadows cast by the drowsy men were less energetic than they had been, and the slivers of light were a calm orange in place of the leaping yellow. But she had waited long enough. It was time.

She crept forward and gently touched Ashitaka’s shoulder. Half-asleep, he almost jumped at her touch, stirring the dozing Chen beside him. He looked back at her in bleary surprise, but she held a finger to her mouth. None else needed to know she was there. She released his shoulder and beckoned him to follow discreetly, and he rose, pretending to stretch. He was a terrible actor, she noted with a small smile, as he carefully made his way out of the firepit’s ring, exchanging goodbyes with the other men. As soon as he was out of the ring and away, she quietly rushed forward and took his hand.

He smiled at her, but she could sense his surprise. “How are you?” He asked, stifling a yawn with his other hand.

“Well enough,” San replied, trying to keep her voice light. Hiding emotion was new to her. An image of Eboshi appeared in San’s mind, smirking sardonically at San’s application of her teachings, and San shoved it away vehemently.  It was her fault San felt this way, not Ashitaka’s. “I finally finished that stupid tea test,” she stated, letting annoyance creep into her voice, and he chuckled softly. San guided him away from the collected firelight of the camp. His hand was rough, but firm. Solid. “Maybe she’ll actually start teaching me useful things.”

“Do you think you’re ready for the next city?” he asked.

She sighed, adjusting the mask resting on her head absently. “I do not know. I am… not excited.” The anxiety was not hidden this time.

“At least you get some practice before the Capitol.” He smiled at her, barely visible as they entered the dark trees. “And I am.” He still hadn’t asked her where they were going yet. He trusted her.

“I anxiously await the opportunity to escort the Lady Saisana.” His grin grew roguish, and she shoved into him playfully with her shoulder.

“You’ve been around Chen too much,” she chided, but her own smile did not last long. He just kept looking at her from the corner of his eye, a small, relieved smile on his face. So she did help him be happy, it seemed.

San did not know what to think of that.

“Come, I want to show you something.” She rushed ahead, tugging him forward, almost causing him to lose his grip on her hand. They moved into the darkness of the woods, running together, the towering trees rushing on either side of them.

“San! Slow down, I can’t- I can’t-“ Ashitaka suddenly protested, and she looked back in confusion. He stumbled and lost hold of her hand, and she rushed to catch him. They collided roughly, and his hands clung to her shoulders as he barely caught himself from falling.  

            Her hands ended up on his shoulders, and she felt them shaking as he began to laugh. “San, I’m not a wolf, I can’t see in the dark…” he managed. She could hear desperation in it, a longing for laughter and joy. “Just give me a minute, please?” He stated, a broad smile on his serious face.

A true smile emerged on her face, and she began to laugh with him. She reached higher around his neck, and looked up at him, and he raised his eyes to meet hers. His laughter faded to soft breaths that moved his broad shoulders and warmed her. She could feel his heartbeat moving through her, and all of a sudden all San wanted to do was bury herself in his arms and-

No! This wasn’t the way she had planned! She took a deep breath, lowered her eyes, and stepped away reluctantly. She must fulfil what she set out to do.

“Come, we must go.” She took hold of his hand again, not wanting to look to him, scared at seeing his disappointment. But as she made her way through the underbrush up the hillside, she could hear the wind moving around him, telling her of the contentment and happiness he still felt. So she forged ahead. She could be his eyes, for these minutes. Soon he would see.

They broke into a clearing, and San hastily clapped a hand over his face, surprising him. “Don’t look! Not yet.” He sighed and smiled, but nodded patiently. She looked at the night sky apprehensively, as if it would leave. That was silly, it was not time yet. San lifted her voice and called in the language of distant wolves.

Ashitaka gasped. As the drifting, forlorn echoes bounced off the trees and mountains, she realized he had never heard her speak it. With her hand still to his eyes, her other hand brushed his long dark hair behind his ear.

“What do you hear?” she murmured to him.

“Echoes of beauty,” the reply came immediately, and San closed her eyes as a smile spread. But he wasn’t done. “Whispers of breeze, carrying the remnants of the shouts of gale in the mountains. The slight gusts feel familiar with us, humans, but the gales are still our enemy.” He cocked his head slightly, and she had to adjust to hide his gaze. But his eyes were closed, thoughtful. She slowly lowered her hand, taking in every detail of his face, picked out in gray detail by the moonlight.

“I hear the wind of your breath. I hear… something steady. Alive, yet unmoving, always growing. Is that…?”

“The trees,” she gasped, eyes going wide. He had learned the language of trees on his own. San moved closer, before stepping away from him slowly at the sound of her family approaching. “We’ll talk about that later,” San whispered to him.

Tsume and Kiba loped into the clearing, little Hitori keeping pace, a small streaked dot beside the white blotches of her brothers.

Ashitaka tensed, then relaxed. “I hear… the family of my closest friends.” The wolves slowed when they reached them, their paws making little sound in the grass. Tsume and Kiba both eyed Ashitaka carefully. They had been reluctant to help her with this plan, and it was only after hearing her pleas and claims that it would bring her peace that they had agreed.

“Can I open my eyes?” Ashitaka asked, and she shushed him. Tsume and Kiba approached slowly, and San raised a hand to stroke Kiba’s side.

Are you sure about this, sister? Tsume asked her, and she nodded. She took Ashitaka’s hand in hers and raised it touch Tsume’s fur.

“Ashitaka. Listen to my brother.” He nodded, and Tsume’s great head swung towards him. There was a pause as the god’s hard golden eyes looked over Ashitaka.

“Once I let a human ride on my back.” Tsume strode around Ashitaka, his great shoulder casually pushing Ashitaka aside as if he were nothing more than an annoying tree branch. “It was only in the moment of greatest need, and towards the same purpose. The protection of my family.” Ashitaka let his hand fall back to his side, head lowering. He was listening intently, and his eyes were still closed, but he was tense. Ashitaka had not really ever truly spoken to her brothers, San realized.

“Now, you may ride with me once again, at my sister’s wishes. But the moment that your purpose deviates from mine…” Tsume stopped his circling. “I will kill you. Do you understand, human?”

San shivered. Her brothers may have been at peace with humans, but they were still wolves. Ashitaka opened his eyes, and met Tsume’s. The top of Ashitaka’s head only came up to the god’s nose. “I understand.” Tsume held his gaze firmly, then turned so that his side was to Ashitaka. He looked to San, and she nodded. There was no fear in his eyes. Ashitaka grabbed a section of Tsume’s ruff and leapt up, settling firmly behind her brother’s shoulders, closing his eyes obediently once again.

San smiled and mounted Kiba, who looked back at her apprehensively. You know Tsume’s only doing it because you want him to.

Hush.

I dunno, I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean that, Hitori said, hopping up beside them in the tall grass. Tsume wouldn’t do that to blue boy, would he?

You’d be surprised, Kiba stated firmly. San rolled her eyes and let out a cry in the language of distant wolves, and Tsume and Kiba immediately joined her, the sounds of their shouts tearing through the silent night in fury.

            “Hold on, Ashitaka!” Then she turned to Kiba. Run. He leapt forward, and San easily shifted forward as suddenly the trees were around them once again. She heard Ashitaka’s cry of surprise and smiled. He’d be fine. “Keep your eyes closed!” she called back as the wolves tore through the forest, Hitori a small jet of black that easily overtook both larger wolves. She was fast.

            San’s smile faded. It was almost time. She would show him, then ask questions. The poisonous ones. Those that Eboshi had fed, until they had taken root in her mind like the tree-choking ivy. The darkness rushed around them, the land below them rapidly passing until they were ascending, grass turning to stone beneath them.

            But would he tell her? Would he answer? She shook away those thoughts vehemently and howled again, tipping her mask over her face, raising her fist in the air. Hitori answered first, her small, joyful voice soon overshadowed by the more mature and determined voices of her brothers.

            Kiba’s voice was excited, as usual, but Tsume’s was reserved, probably because of the boy on his back. She hoped the mature wolf would become more used to Ashitaka. She heard the calls of rushing winds, the murmurs of young trees that had never seen Forest gods, and soon the rattle of protesting stones as they were driven from their places by the wolves’ paws. The group reached the top of the ridge, but did not stop, and San looked out over the landscape, lit by the unearthly gray light.

There were dots of light in the valley below them. Towns and villages. They were entering the Empire’s official border tomorrow. San looked about, at the closer peaks and plateaus. She didn’t have a specific place in mind, it just had to be high.

            There was a small flat area, dotted with wind-lashed trees. That would do. She told Kiba so, and he continued running along the top of the ridge, paws sure, followed closely by Tsume and Hitori. Soon.

            She leapt off Kiba at a dead run, and rolled smoothly in the soft grass and soil that survived this high. She rose and looked above her, to the source of the light. Perfect.

She looked back. Ashitaka clung to Tsume’s back, his long hair whipping about his determinedly closed eyes. Tsume slowed to lope beside her, and she reached up and took Ashitaka’s fist –clenched in Tsume’s neck fur— gently. She felt him relax and a smile tentatively came to his face.

            “Th- thank you, Tsume.” The wolf made no response that San could hear. “San, can I open my eyes now?” She smiled and guided him down from Tsume’s back. He jumped, landing unsteadily.

            “Almost.”

            “It’s like you’ve never ridden a wolf before!” Hitori called as she approached, and Tsume looked down at her narrowly. She skidded to a stop and shrunk under his gaze, tail going between her legs. San could hear Kiba begin explaining something patiently to Hitori in her mind, but San paid them no attention.

            “Thank you, Tsume.” San let go of Ashitaka’s hand and reached around to press her face into her brother’s neck, feeling his soft fur brush against her skin. That meant a lot to me. He returned the nuzzle, his cold nose prying its way under her other arm.

            Fare well, sister. I hope this works, for your sake and his. We will depart now. The last thought was directed towards the other gods, and with quick goodbyes the three wolves were racing away down the mountainside, leaving her alone with Ashitaka.

            She turned to Ashitaka and took his hand. He heaved a great sigh, a smile of stretched patience sitting on his face. She brushed hair out of hi s closed eyes again, and he leaned his head into her hand She didn’t want him to see the anguish on her face. Not yet.

She tugged him gently along, the trees around them having been relatively sheltered by the peaks just above them. They reached the cliff’s edge, sheer rock falling hundreds of feet to the tops of trees below. San took a deep breath. “Ok. Now you can-” Before she had finished her sentence he was looking at her, a bemused smile on his face. “open…” she tried to continue, but he squeezed her hand. Oh, that smile…

“If you’re trying to show me beautiful places to distract me from you, it’s not going to work.” His words drew her own smile out, and against her will she looked away, a softer red spreading under the crimson on her cheeks.

And then she heard his intake of breath as he looked up at the sky, and then its escape as his eyes found out what she had brought him to. She followed his gaze, and hand in hand, they looked together at the expanse of lights, arching into the clear darkness of the night. Freed from the fires and smoke of Irontown, the black sky stretched out unblemished, endless sparkling dots surrounding one great light.

Above them all was the moon, a crowning jewel in the sky. It was just past full, looking down on the earth with its pale light that lifted her heart and eyes.

Ashitaka sank, and together they sat near the edge of the cliff, everything around them bathed in the light and mystery of the thing in the sky that their eyes could not leave. They drew closer to each other, almost unconsciously. And they sat, and watched.

“Why do wolves call to the moon?” Ashitaka asked, his voice soft so as not to disturb the profound peace.

“Why do humans not call to the moon?” San replied, looking to him with a hint of a smile on her face. He was taken aback at this.

“You’ve been spending too much time around Eboshi,” he muttered under his breath, a slight chuckle showing the words for the joke it was meant to be. Ashitaka did not see the twist in San’s heart. She forced a small smile anyway.

He lowered his gaze and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. San was surprised to see a light shade of stubble there, barely visible in the moonlight. “I suppose that we do not know how to speak its language?” he concluded questioningly.

“Neither do the wolves, Ashitaka.” He glanced at her in surprise and she met his gaze. She would tell him the thing that no human knew. “We cannot speak the language of the moon. No one can.” Ashitaka’s eyes left her and returned to the silver almost-circle.

“But why…?” he continued, trailing off.

“Does there have to be so deep a reason? Because we want to, Ashitaka. The moon protects us from hunters, yet gives us light in the dark.” He turned to her again, eyes wide and curious. “Yes, it is distant. Unreachable, even.” She looked away from him, and her grip on his fingers tightened. “But we cry out anyway.”

He sought her gaze, moving yet closer. “San… is everything alright?” She did not reply, merely placed her head on his shoulder. Hesitantly, he reached over and put his arm around her shoulder, drawing San closer. She took a deep breath, rubbing her head further into his shoulder.

Her arm reached up and took his shoulder, pulling him closer. They turned to face each other. She drew herself up, kneeling, and he rose with her, his other arm coming to hold her tighter. She reached up, and brushed the scar on his cheek. It was one she had given to him.

            “I remember when I first saw you,” he began. She sighed and placed her head on his chest, just feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. “You were so… different, more so than anything I had ever seen. But I knew…” His hand reached up and stroked her hair gently. She felt him take a deep breath, and she braced herself. “I knew I would never be at peace until I found you.”

“I thought you were a fool,” San whispered. “Pulling yourself up on that rock, your silly coat flapping behind you. You just started shouting, as if I was supposed care about anything you were talking about.” He chuckled at that, and she smiled into his shoulder. He smelled of the fire, of companionship.  He was so… happy. She leaned back and touched his scar again, looking up. “And then you got in my way,” she teased, and lightly pushed her head with his.

“Saving your life, my lady?”

“I let you save my life,” she clarified, and he started to laugh again. How could she be the one to end his joy with her insidious, doubting questions?

“No.” His laughter faded, and he looked into her eyes, serious once again. “You saved me, San.” He took her hand in his, and brought it to his mouth, eyes lowering. “When I first saw you, you were like the moon, to me.” She gave a small gasp, eyes widening. “Unreachable.” He looked up again. They were dark in the moonlight, and yet she had never seen them so full of light. “But I reached out to you anyways.” San sank into his chest, shaken at his beautiful words. She looked up at the moon, over his shoulder, and faced herself.

How was she possibly going to go through with this? Would she really ask him about the dagger around her neck, like she had planned? Would she ask him about Kaya, and his true relationship to her? She had seen his pain because of her.

Part of her, the fiercer side that she pushed down more often than not, wanted answers. But the rest of her… wanted him. Wanted to be with him, no matter his answers. Wanted him to have the joy, that he so rarely felt.

            San shuddered in his arms, and his grip tightened on her, leaning his head on hers. What would they be, after his answers?

No! She needed to ask! That was why she had brought him here, after all? Wasn’t it? She shook her head against him, and her wrenched her eyes shut, trying to gather the words. Ashitaka saw her conflict, and took her shoulders, looking at her in worry. She didn’t meet his eyes.

“San, what is it?” Words rose even as her eyes did. His eyes were firm, steady. She looked up at the moon, the shining beacon that had guided her and her family for so long. Then she looked at him, into his eyes. They were full of concern. Of pain, lessened by her presence. They were full of a love that she had never before experienced.

The words left her.

“I love you,” she murmured. And she realized, as her mind automatically began to rebel against the thought, that it was true. She loved a human. She loved Ashitaka.

His eyes widened, then a smile came to him. She saw the tension leaving him. Maybe that was weakness in her, by not asking. But San didn’t care, not right now.

“I love you, San,” he whispered. Warmth, deeper than fire or sun, spread through her heart. She leaned forward and rubbed her cheek against his, nuzzling him. Moro had not taught her much about love, but she knew a little. His arms wrapped around her, and she could feel his warmth radiating through her. She gently licked his cheek, wishing that she knew of other ways to show affection.

And then his lips found hers. Her eyes flashed open, and she almost pulled away at the shock of it. But she didn’t.

The touch was gentle, and soft. And altogether pleasant.

They separated, but she had never felt so close to him. He was still smiling that small joyous smile, and there was one on her face as well. She felt… so peaceful.

She curled against him, and he gently lowered her until they lay on the rough grass of the plateau. Her hands were pressed against the solid frame of his chest, and she was enfolded in his arms. She would gladly stay there for eternity.

Her mind was so far away from the rest of the world, that she barely noticed the sound reaching her ears. She felt the distant rumble, as if far-away mountains were falling to their knees. Ashitaka heard it as well, and they pulled apart slightly, searching out the source of it. She remembered that it was a voice just as Ashitaka looked to the moon.

In the time before the noise hit them, it was like a caught breath before a high jump. And then it came upon them, like the rolling of vague thunders, like the clash of breaking rocks, and the beating of great hearts. And yet it was none of those, but instead an ancient, unknowable majesty that filled the space between it and them. She had only heard it once before. The language of the moon.

They could hear nothing else, and then they could hear everything. San tried to reply, but her voice found no hold against the overwhelming immensity. They sank to the ground, arms still around each other, looking up at the great light in the sky. Its voice rushed past them even as it reached out to them, and San could feel her very soul expanding, trying to catch its words.

The voice surged, urged, and called to her. It drove into her mind, replacing every thought with wonder. Around them, the trees, wind and sky replied to it, their voices rising to meet its call. She heard her family’s voices join in, and she tried to call as well. But she could not. It would not understand her.

Something caught in the corner of her vision, and she saw small blue ribbons of light flittering in the air around them. Just as the thought came for her to reach out and touch them, they vanished, melting into the wind, leaving the echoes of voice behind. But even as it faded, the language of the great light still rang through her, reminding her of something she knew not.

San looked to Ashitaka. He was still staring up at the sky, his eyes wide in awe and wonder, and she knew, then.

            For he had also heard the language, the very voice of the moon, with her.

She buried her head in Ashitaka’s chest, her heart filling with pride. “You heard the moon, Ashitaka,” she whispered. He was shaking, she realized, and he clutched her ever tighter.  

“I hold the moon,” he whispered in return.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> co-written with another author whose name i dont know on AO3 XD but on Fanfiction she is Echobodhi

“And then she fell asleep!”

Chen burst into laughter at the confusion on Ashitaka’s face. “Isn’t that a good thing?” he managed, and Ashitaka shrugged desperately, eyes wide and plaintive.

“I didn’t know what to do, so I…” He stopped, looking at Chen helplessly.

“So you stayed there. All night.” Chen stated, expression abruptly deadpan. Ashitaka blushed a deep crimson, and laughter rang from Chen once again, echoing through the early morning. He clapped the younger man on the shoulder, and tried to summon words. He failed, bending over double on his seat as amusement shook through him. Ashitaka’s expression darkened.

“I’m –– I’m sorry, Ashi! I just…oh my… go on, I’m sorry.”

Ashitaka eyed him indignantly as his guffaws subsided to chuckles. “Nothing happened! We just… I just… held her!”

Chen took a deep breath, smile splitting his features, forcing the laughter back. It was difficult, but somehow he managed. “Don’t get me wrong, kid, I’m happy for you.” He looked into Ashitaka’s eyes, to show him the sincerity that he felt, even if it was hiding behind a thick layer of amusement. “For both of you.”

Ashitaka looked skeptically at him, but soon a smile grew on his face as well. They shared a moment of silence, thoughts running through both of their heads, and Chen took a moment to examine Ashitaka. The boy had taken three days to tell Chen about the events of that night, and Chen had been curious ever since he had seen the pair vanish into the night.

San had been a decidedly better indicator of how the night had went, Chen remembered. The only time she had come to Chen for sword training, a smile of joy hadn’t left her face despite her reluctance to answer any questions regarding it.

“How did it feel?” Chen asked, and Ashitaka looked at him questioningly. “When you woke up to see someone you loved.”

The boy seemed surprised at his question, but looked down thoughtfully. “Wonderful.” His voice was soft, and full to bursting of emotion.

But not the emotion Chen expected. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ashitaka didn’t answer, but he took a deep breath, tension creasing his young face. His hand moved to touch the hilt of his ringblade, where Kaya’s ribbon shared the iron ring with Gorou’s headband. “It’s the dagger.” Ashitaka’s voice cracked, and Chen leaned closer, looking at him in concern.

“The one from Kaya?”

Ashitaka nodded. “San doesn’t know what it means.”

Chen looked to him questioningly. “Wait, I thought it was just something that she gave you. What does it mean?”

Ashitaka took a deep breath. “No. It’s so much more than that.” He faced Chen, eyes dark and determined. “It is a marriage symbol.”

Chen blinked in surprise. “Wait, what?”

“Kaya was my betrothed. The dagger was a symbol of that.”

“And you haven’t told San.”

Ashitaka nodded despondently.

Chen frowned and leaned over, meeting the boy’s eyes. “And why haven’t you told her?”

Ashitaka looked up at him helplessly.  “I––”

“Ashitaka! Chen! Pretty boys with swords!”

Chen stood up, searching for the voice calling to them. Fortunately, he was taller than most anything in the camp, so he easily picked out the stout, apron-clad woman waving to him from the entrance of a large tent.  Kinu, the head medic. Chen waved back to her. “Yes, Ms. Kinu!?”

She was making her way over to them. “Chen! Where’s the Lady, and why aren’t you with her!?”

Chen couldn’t hold back a smile. “She was with Dayihata last I saw her! Told me to head back, why?”

“Oh! And you actually went!? Never-mind,” she called, now nearly next to him. “I need you to tell her something for me,” she stated, squinting her eyes at him in the sunlight.  He leaned down to better hear her. “We’re running low on medical supplies. It’s not bad — most of the wounded are already on their way to recovery, but we'll need to stop at the next village. Tell her, won't you?" She turned to Ashitaka, and the boy straightened expectantly, confusion slipping from his face as it hadn’t been there. “Ashitaka — Genji just woke up; he's due for another dose. Could you take care of him? I have to go find some more herbs.”

Chen raised an eyebrow at her as Ashitaka stood, giving a compliant nod. He looked at Chen uncertainly, and Chen pointed at Ashitaka, fixing him with a determined gaze. “We’re not done here. We’ll talk later, got it?” Ashitaka bit his lip but nodded, eyes downcast. He watched as Ashitaka hurried towards the medical tent, and turned back to Kinu, who was eyeing him questioningly. A smile returned to his face.  “And why have you chosen me of all people, to tell the Lady?" he asked skeptically.

She looked up at him narrowly, as if he was the short one, a hand planted on her hip. “I'm busy, Master Chen. You are not." He shrugged and nodded agreeably.

"Besides, you were bound to return to her sometime today anyway— and Ashitaka said you were a cleanly person, so I suppose there's that," she muttered, producing a slip of paper from her frock. "Here, give her this — it lists the wanted supplies.  Well, go on," she shooed him with her hand, "don't keep your Lady waiting.”

Chen grinned and gave her a mock salute.  He rather liked the woman's antics — they were a welcome change to the meekness of most of the women he’d known from his days in Duan Zen, and even many of the Reiti girl didn’t have such spunk. With a wave, he turned on his heel and broke into a light jog.

He liked all of the Tatara women, truth be told — liked their devout vigor and their sharp-tongued manner, their jokes and their songs.  The men, during their nights around the fire, they told him that the women used to work the bellows in old Iron Town. They sang of gold, blades, and ogres in the evenings, song that men weren’t allowed to truly listen to, much less sing.  Some of the men, including Genro and Kohroku, had even tried to instigate a crude reproduction. He smiled as he recalled the bootlegged melody.  He'd caught Eboshi humming it once, while she tinkering with some metal contrivance or other.  It was remarkable how the woman felt most at-ease when she was surrounded by guns.

Soon enough, however, his thoughts returned to Ashitaka. The dagger –the blue crystal hanging around San’s neck—was a marriage symbol!? It made sense that he and Kaya had been engaged –Chen had seen the boy’s devotion to her—but why had he given it to San? And he hadn’t had the sense to tell her about it. Chen shook his head with a sigh. That was quite the situation Ashitaka had gotten himself into.

Chen neared the glade where the temporary smithery had been situated — Dayihata's Den, as he'd grown to call it, for it was always occupied by the man and was distinctly den-like — Chen slowed his pace and brushed a hand through his tousled hair. It was for concentration on the task at hand, as well as to help it look good, and put Ashitaka out of his mind, for now.

            He could hear Dayihata's amiable timbre, intercepted occasionally by the man's scratchy laughter and by smooth-voiced replies that could only belong to Eboshi herself.

            "Milady?" he moved to push past the flap, but before he could stick his head in, her voice rang out.

“Remain outside for the moment, if you will, Master Chen.”

He straightened and replied, a bit stiff from surprise, “Yes, my Lady.” He heard the heavy sounds of something large being moved, and the shrill scrapes of iron on wood. Whatever it was in there, it wasn’t anything he had seen before.

            “You may enter, Master Chen,” came her voice.

            He entered gingerly. Eboshi was standing next to a low folding table, whilst Dayihata sat on the ground, in the process of lowering the heavy lid of what appeared to be a large wooden case. Before it closed entirely, Chen caught a glimpse of light refracted off of gleaming wood amidst the metallic glints of polished steel.

            Dayihata turned and called out cheerfully: "Master Chen!"

"Master Dayihata," Chen returned, tipping his head, as he stepped farther into the tent. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, he noticed a small mechanical contraption in the Lady’s hand. It had a thin iron barrel mounted on a sleek wooden body, and ended with a narrow nozzle, which was, he noticed with slight alarm, pointed directly at him. The calculation in her eyes turned to amusement, but her arm remained steady, the odd device — was it a gun? — trained directly at his forehead. He could see something in her eyes — a sort of glee, barely controlled, at being able to hold the weapon. Some of that frustration he’d noticed in her manner on the hill, when she had allowed him to assist her… it was lessened, now.  His eyes widened as she hefted the weapon, and Eboshi gave a slight chuckle.

“...And hello to you too, Milady,” he said carefully, instinctively raising a hand against a weapon that his brain knew he couldn’t defend against.  His caution seemed to delight Dayihata, who grinned so widely with his dilapidated mouth that Chen could easily make out the man’s seven teeth.  He waved to Eboshi excitedly.  "Give it a go, m'lady, give it a go!  Test her!"

Eboshi lowered the object and glanced back at Dayihata sardonically, a smirk on her red lips, lifting an eyebrow as the man proceeded to reiterate his enthusiastic encouragement. Seizing his chance in her momentary distraction, Chen gave a theatrical cringe and hastily stepped away from the entrance.

Dayihata gave a cry of dismay.  "Aw, Milady, quick!  You’ll miss your target!

"That would be rather a waste, Dayi, don't you think?" Eboshi returned, lowering the gun. "He is instrumental to the plan and hence necessary for our mission — and, in the meantime, he's a perfectly useful samurai.”

Glad I’m worth something, Chen thought wryly.  He shrugged apologetically to the grinning Dayihata.

            “Besides,” Eboshi continued, “he makes good company; the girls like him, Ashitaka likes him — he's even charmed the Princess Mononoke, from what I've seen. And that is quite a close range — a poor test of marksmanship, no?”  

"Do I get no say in this?" Chen asked half-incredulously. Good company, was he?

"But, my Lady!" Dayihata exclaimed, disregarding Chen’s remark. "Such fine armor! I bet five bullets my machine could blast through it."

"I suppose we shan't find out until we meet another samurai who bears its equal," Eboshi commented dryly.  "If things truly go badly, maybe you’ll have the royal guards’ armor to test against, Dayi.” The man cackled to himself, rubbing his bandaged hands together, but her gaze returned to Chen. “I'm afraid Chen would make rather a poor target."

"I resent that statement! I think I make a perfectly good target," he laughed, even as he moved nearer to the high-ceiled center to ease his stooped shoulders.

Dayihata crinkled his nose at him.  "Oh no, Master Chen.  Like the Lady said, much too big, too tall — shoulders too wide.  Not interesting. Maybe a hundred yards off, you might be able to redeem yourself?” Dayihata grinned again, putting a hand on his chest, left-wise of what would've been over his heart. Dayi continued, “No, no Master Chen, you're much too big to aim at.  Besides, you samurai have far too much honor, anyway." Winking at Chen, he waved his hand in Eboshi's direction and added in a loud, conspiratorial whisper: "And you're far too well-liked, it seems."

"That was conspicuously loud, Dayi. Might make one wonder at the importance of it."

Dayihata merely spared her an insouciant glance. “Women,” he mouthed to Chen, fretting with his bandaged head as if there were hair piled atop it.  He raised his brow masterfully, producing what Chen had to admit was a very convincing imitation.  “They say so many insincere, deceiving things — why, it's positively cruel!”

"What was it you wanted, Chen?" Eboshi asked, stepping over a litter of metal scraps, nearing him.  “Surely you didn't come merely to exchange witticisms with this fool of a jester.”

"Kinu sent me," Chen returned reaching for the slip of paper the medic had given him.

"Oh?" Eboshi questioned. "What does she want?"

"I'm to give you this.  Says she's undersupplied — wants to stop at the next village, instead of just passing through in style like we’d planned."

“Oh, dear Kinu,” Eboshi began, inspecting the piece of paper he held out. “Always so dutiful. Ah — you do forget that I can only hold one thing at a time, Chen.?”

He realized she already held the gun, and quickly placed the paper on the low bench near all the tools. “Sorry, Lady Eboshi, I didn’t mean—”

“Chen.” His words froze in his mouth, and he looked at her in surprise.

“I think we have spoken enough for me to call you a friend. Eboshi will do.”

“Yes, my... “ A smile spread against his will. This would be a welcome change. “Yes, Eboshi.”

“Good man,” she stated, inspecting the gun in her hand, the smile still quite prominent. Chen exchanged a glance with a grinning Dayihata, who was trying his best to look busy by cleaning an already-shining trigger guard. He was humming to himself, and Chen suddenly realized that he hadn’t been at the fire the night before. A shame, he seemed an amusing fellow. Why was that?

He would think on that later. Right now, it was the Lady’s smile that interested him.

“If I may,” Chen stated carefully, and she slipped the slim gun in a case hanging at her side, eying him from the corner of her gaze. “I’ve never seen you so… content.”

“And that is a cause for surprise?”

“Well...” he began, hesitant.  He glanced down to his feet, before meeting her raised eyebrow. He breathed out and straightened. “Yes,” he stated firmly, meeting her gaze.

“Yes, well,” she replied, brushing a hair away from her eyes.  “I did miss shooting.  Blades are things of beauty, of elegance — but firearms are so much more effective, even if they do tend to be rather volatile.  Have you ever tried your hand at it?  You'd enjoy it, I'd wager.  You seem to like loud, risky things.”

“Sounds about right,” Chen laughed. “I actually haven’t been able to try them out yet.” He looked curiously at the rifle and pole-gun on the ground near her feet. “I do want to try, though.  I have for some time, actually.”

“They say there’s no time like the present — if you're so eager,” Eboshi said. “I could show you.”

Chen looked up at her in surprise. “Now, my Lady? What about...”

She graced him with a small smile, and his words stopped, remembering the authority of the woman he was speaking to. “Kinu can wait; we will not enter the town in procession until late afternoon. Unless you had another time in mind?”

He shook his head mutely, and stepped aside as she passed, bowing slightly. She did not look to him as he passed, but her hand rose gracefully to brush his arm. “Please take the rifle and follow me. Dayi, could you take another look at the project — the multiple firing mechanisms still need some work.”

Dayihata nodded his head.  “Will do.  But be careful, m’lady.” Curiously, he glanced at Chen before continuing. “You’re gonna have to learn to aim better before you can be accurate with the pistol.”

Eboshi only nodded and smiled, exiting while Chen scooped up the rifle, the wooden stock smooth in his hands. Dayi winked once more to Chen, continuing his humming tune, and Chen grinned back at the small man.

Chen followed Eboshi back into the morning light. He fell in step beside her, rifle over his shoulder.


	22. Chapter 22

Something, Chen decided, was markedly different about her today. He kept his head forward, expression still, but his eyes slid sideways, studying Eboshi, trying to figure out what it was.  She didn't have her cloak with her, he noticed, and perhaps in its absence seemed different — freer, less immaculate.  There was something surprisingly honest in the swinging of her empty sleeve, in her stride. A curious expression of peace had come over her — a small, curved smile devoid of cleverness and deviousness, a loosened slope in the shoulders; instead of looking directly ahead, calculating every possible obstruction in her path, she had raised her eyes, looking skywards.  It was as if she had a happy secret to keep.

He followed her gaze to the horizon, at the curly forest-line, the last small range of mountains rising to the East, surrounded by wisps of clouds.  The sun had barely risen over their peaks, shedding golden light through the leaves and dappling the dewy grass. They had already left the main grounds of their camp — the forest was near, and he could hear the rush of a garbling stream, the foreign warbles of some early morning-bird.

You ask why I am happy,” Eboshi stated casually, and he promptly reverted his attention to her.  She continued walking at a stately pace, her steps nigh soundless, her strides long.  "I suppose it is because I've regained something that I'd thought entirely lost.  To be honest, I hadn't expected Dayihata's… exploits to be this successful."

She paused and then, looking sideways at him, continued: "You know the familiarity — the relief that comes when something lost is returned to you?”

Chen glanced at her.  "Yes, I know that feeling well.”

Eboshi hummed, returning her gaze to the mountains.  "You spoke to me of disability; of being crippled,” she said, fingering the gun at her side. “I lost my arm some months ago — you've surely heard the story, of the Shishigami, and of Moro, the wolf goddess?"

Chen nodded.  He had heard many rumors and several accounts from different tellers, but it would be interesting to hear it from the subject.  "Yes," he said, "San's mother."

“She was powerful—even in her last moments, I barely escaped death at her fangs. She was about twenty times the size of your Hitori.” The corners of her mouth lifted at that, and she looked to Chen. “She is quite small.” Chen chuckled, but his attention remained on her as they continued walking. Her smile faded. “But I could not escape her vengeance unscathed, and she took something from me.”

Chen eyed her carefully, and his gaze slipped from her visage to her empty sleeve.  He recalled well the first weeks after his father had lost his leg: the sense of misplacement, the countless readjustments, the ponderous discussions with his mother; an incapacity as to how to deal with what they had lost.  "I’m sorry,” he offered sincerely.  “That must’ve been harrowing.”

Eboshi smiled wryly.  “Well, yes, such things are always painful, and I suppose that I should have expected some sort of consequence to such an… extreme action on my part.” Chen realized sharply that this was the nearest he’d seen… to contrition from her. In every other setting she’d always been so sure of every action, even those that had not gone according to her plans.

She continued. “Yet I'm lucky to have a rather able left; I could always write a little, so that I learned quickly.  But still, it's difficult, sometimes, to remember that I can't do something.  Small things, surprisingly," she said and gave a small laugh.  "I can't quite put my hair up, for example — Ituse arranges it for me every morning."

Chen looked at the coiffed hair atop her head. He'd never even considered that.  

"Yet I've learned to manage," Eboshi continued. "And, as I said, one of those things has been returned to me.” She stopped walking, and Chen halted as well. Eboshi shifted — Chen could think of no other word for it. Her feet were suddenly more firm, anchored in the ground, and her hand rose. Her eyes narrowed, and power filled her movement. She pulled the trigger, and a blast of sound rang in Chen’s entire frame, causing him to take an involuntary step backwards, shaking him as fire flared from the barrel.

A shocked silence reigned the moment after, and smoke drifted around them until echoes resounded off the trees, breaking it again. Chen inhaled — he hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath-- and the sharp smell of gunsmoke stung his nose. Her hand had barely moved. She lowered the smoking pistol, and her smile was calm, eyes closed.

“Yes, I know I will never regain my arm. But I keep living, as you so eloquently put it.” She did not look to him.     

He forgot to breathe again. This time, beauty was the culprit. Soon enough, however, his voice returned to him, as it always did. “That was magnificent.”

She nodded her agreement. “I’m happy you think so. It seems Dayi was correct,” she stated, looking out into the area where she had fired. Chen blinked as he realized that she had actually meant to hit something. “This will be greatly different from my rifles.”

She placed the pistol back in its case of her upper hip, and her fingers deftly removed the network of metal that made up what Chen assumed to be the firing mechanism near the grip. She shook out the ashes spitefully, and with two fingers removed a small wrapped object from under her robe. She narrowed her eyes in concentration and carefully placed the object in the mechanism. Chen leaned closer to see what she was doing.

It fit perfectly, and she made sure it was nice and snug with a single stuff of her thumb. Grinning in satisfaction, she shoved the whole thing back into the housing and slid a block of metal from the housing over the wrapped container.

She drew forth the gun again, and with her thumb deftly maneuvered a single piece of metal into position, until it caught. She looked to him again, immensely pleased with herself.

He understood why. He took a step forward, a smile growing. “That is... very clever. Allowing you to load without the use of both hands...”

“Now, it’s your turn,” she stated, turning to him. He smiled nervously, and lowered the rifle from his shoulder as she disengaged the firing lever, replacing it on her hip. He gingerly guided the to the position he had seen the women using, one hand above on the trigger lever, and the other below, supporting it. He looked to her for approval, and found only a smirk at his attempts. He grinned back at her.

She ignored him. “First, you have to light the primer, Chen.” She said this as if she were explaining to a child why fire was not safe to touch. He looked at the empty holder and raised his eyebrows at her.

She pulled a small piece of wood from her sleeve, and struck it on a strip on the side of her pistol case; the strange chemicals lit immediately. She reached out to hand it to him.   

He looked at it for a second, dumbfounded. “That’s useful,” he said, having come up with nothing more eloquent.  Eboshi sighed at his expression and stuck the wood-piece firmly in its place.  

She reached up to move his lower hand down the barrel. “Farther. There’s wood over there for a reason. And by the Codes, let it breath, man!” He took a breath, relaxing his grip. It was quite hard to. Her hand was still on his. “Better. See that tree there? The one with the knots?” He nodded, training the rifle on the semi-distant tree. She removed her hand, and it did wonders for his concentration. It was about ten meters. He was no archer, but he could easily hit that with a bow.

“Now, wherever you think the bullet is going to go, you’re wrong.” He looked to her skeptically. He was a good half-head taller than her — although she was quite tall, especially for a woman — but she met his gaze as if they were level. “Adjust to your right about two inches.” He did so, shrugging. “And don’t do that shrugging thing you men are so fond of,” she stated, punctuating her words with a sharp slap of his supporting hand. “It throws off absolutely everything.”

He sighed, keeping his patience in check. He’d never done this, and she had, what, five years of experience? He’d listen.

“Now breathe.”

He regarded her again, inhaling audibly. “Pretty sure I can do that.”

“I’d be worried if you couldn’t,” she stated dryly. “Place your hand on the trigger, carefully. These are quite sensitive.” He did so, taking a deep breath. “Now as you move to pull the trigger, hold your breath. Inhale or exhale, you decide, I’ve seen both. But as you hold that breath, don’t look at the gun. Look at where you’re aiming.”   

“Where I’m aiming…” he muttered in reply, narrowing his eyes. He continued taking deep breaths, trying to incorporate the weapon into his stance, his balance, shifting both. She was watching him, he realized, but he was no longer able to be distracted. Then he held his breath.

He pushed the lever. The primer struck the hole in the housing, and his eyes barely had time to widen before force struck him. The rifle bucked in his hands, a momentous BOOM shaking the air and every part of him, fire and smoke belching from the barrel. A ringing erupted in his ears, and for a moment the world seemed alight with red and fire.  He frantically tightened his grip, and managed to keep a hold on the gun.

In an instant, it was over, the gun once again resting in his grip instead of resisting it. He lowered the gun and looked over to Eboshi, who was moving her mouth mutely — he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Panic immediately filled him, and he tried to speak; his eyes widened when he couldn’t hear his own words. Eboshi looked at him curiously and he pointed at his ears vehemently. She laughed soundlessly, and Chen’s eyes narrowed in indignation. What was wrong with the woman!? He couldn’t hear, and she was mocking— She placed her hand on his arm, smiling up at him. He was taken aback, but did not pull away. She spoke again, and this time he caught some of her words:

            “—return in time. I’m sorry, Chen, I forgot.”

He cocked his head, swinging the rifle back on his shoulder. She reached into a fold in her kimono, pulling out a network of cloth.

She placed it on her head, and Chen realized this must be what the women wore under those hats of theirs. Eboshi handed another to him. “So that’s how you avoid going deaf.” Thank the weaves, he could hear himself again. Eboshi nodded as he tied it around his head, and immediately the world became duller. “Wait, how on earth do you hear anything?” His words were muffled now, softer.

“I’ve become more used to it, I guess.” Eboshi replied smoothly.

Chen looked out over at the old tree he had been aiming at. It was untouched, but a smaller tree several meters behind that had almost been splintered in two. “Wow. I see why you like these things.”

“Yes. Well, not terrible for a first time,” she stated, inspecting his shooting. “You get the basics, it seems. It doesn’t cause any dishonor to grow in that samurai heart of yours?”

“There is no dishonor in using the better weapon,” Chen replied. “The only dishonor is when a weapon is used against someone who should have no need to use one.”

She eyed him narrowly. “That doesn’t sound very… traditional to me.”

He shrugged, looking down. “I’m not exactly a traditional samurai. Those ‘obey your master at all costs’ types do all sorts of things they later regret. Honor like that’s not worth losing sleep over.” he stated flippantly. He could do it by now, to say things like that so easily.  

She eyed him curiously, but said nothing.  

“Can I see the… what did you call it… the little one?” She looked to him uncertainly.

“You want to shoot my pistol?” she clarified, raising her eyebrow. It was always her right one, Chen noted. He supposed she might have been going for intimidation. It was cute.

“Don’t drop it,” she stated firmly, taking the pistol by the barrel and handing it to him. It was a hefty little thing. He tossed it gently in his hand to test its weight, catching it easily, grinning at Eboshi’s sudden tensing. “Come now, Chen, be careful,” she reiterated, voice gaining a hard edge.

“So I just pull back this little thing?” He placed his thumb on the metal piece, and she nodded slowly, watching him like a hawk. He nodded back, grin spreading.  He whipped the pistol up, spun, squinted, then pulled the trigger.

The shock ran through his arm like a blocked strike as the largest knot on the target tree exploded in a blast of shattered wood. Chen released his breath with a whoosh, and Eboshi stared at the smoking barrel of the pistol with mild shock.

“I… suppose that’s one way to do it.”

He grinning at her, lowering the gun slowly. “I appreciate the instruction, but I’m more of an instinct kind of guy.”

“Really,” she stated, definitely not amused –or at least pretending not to be. “give it back, please.” She held out her hand and Chen took it in his own, sweeping his best courtly bow.

“Of course, my fair lady,”

She swept a graceful return bow, legs bending smoothly, single arm curving in front of her, that same content smile returning to her face. Chen’s eyes widened as his mind suddenly struggled to remember… something. A remnant of his scant days in officer training.

“Well, I am devoid of further bullets for your rifle. Shall we return?” she asked.

Chen replied, fighting back distraction. “Yes, of course! I’m mildly surprised your pockets aren’t full of the things.” Then all of a sudden it returned to him. Her bow, the one she had given him, it was that of a noble lady to a potential suitor. Chen’s surprised eyes moved to her, but her smile was not any more calculating, just filled with simple amusement, and that strange, beautiful peace. Had she really meant to use it?

“Well? Are you coming with me, or will you leave a one-armed woman to do all the work?” she scolded gently, turning to face him once again. Maybe she didn’t think he would know it. He smiled, hefting the rifle to a more comfortable position and walked to her. Yes, that must be it.


End file.
